You're the only prayer I need to make me feel blessed
by Cuticlecare
Summary: Some might say his was an easy job. Being an escort is all fun and games, right? Really, really good money and all the wine and women he could get. But he had rules to play with. Keep clean, negotiate the money upfront and most importantly, don't fall in love. It is that easy, right?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Aubrey Posen was an upright member of community.

She had a steady job, always paid her taxes on time and never got a parking ticket. Everything in Aubrey Posen's life was ordered and neat and always on the right side of of the law. She was certainly not the type to grace this type of establishment. Which was why she was sitting rather stiffly at the edge of this plush sofa, ignoring the flute of champagne on the table in front of her.

She could actually use a drink right now. It was after office hours and technically, she could but Aubrey Posen never drink during a business meeting. This was, after all, a business meeting and _only_ reason she was here. She took a surreptitious glance at the small gold watch on her wrist and her lips stretched into a thin, hard line. Just what she suspected. That man was late.

"Aubrey, will you relax?"

Aubrey glanced to her right at her friend, Stacie Conrad. The tall, brunette was stretching out in seat, definitely more at ease than Aubrey was. And judging by the half empty flute, Stacie had no qualms about drinking the offered champagne.

"I don't think this is a good idea at all, Stacie," Aubrey said almost in a hiss. "I'm not very comfortable with this. Are you sure this... this place fits our needs?"

Stacie smirked at her, sitting up to place the flute back onto the table. "I've told you. This place came highly recommended."

"By whom?" came the swift question.

"My contacts," Stace shrugged. She swallowed a little at Aubrey's hard stare. "Okay. That article I showed you about this place? I did track down the writer and managed to talk to her. The place's legit."

"And?" Aubrey goaded, one eyebrow lifted in question.

"And discreet," Stacie confirmed.

"I'm still not very comfortable with this," Aubrey insisted.

"I know," Stacie said, placing a soothing hand on Aubrey's arm. "We don't have to make up our minds yet. But you have to agree, Aubrey. This place looks pretty amazing."

She swung her arm in an arc to take in the room they were in. They were sitting in a small waiting room, furnished in rich plums and burnished gold. Very luxurious. Very tasteful. There was soft music playing, nothing intrusive and being served cold champagne as soon as they sat down was an added bonus.

The address itself would have been a little hard to find if they had not receive detailed instructions prior to their meeting. For that, Stacie was glad. If the entrance had been full of neon lettering with pictures of scantily dressed men on posters right outside, Stacie was sure Aubrey would have run away screaming. As it was, the place looked classy. A discreet maroon door opened when they knocked. A good looking guy greeted them warmly and politely asked whether they had an appointment. Once their appointment was confirmed, they were ushered into this lovely room.

Aubrey's hand fluttered to her tummy as she tried to quell that nervous, all too familiar clench. To take her mind off, she was now nervously scrolling through the iPad on her lap. Perhaps not the wisest move in the current nervous state she was in. The ipads were covered in maroon leather covers with the distinctive gold T embossed in one corner and had been placed on the coffee table for potential clients to peruse. It contained a brief introduction to the place, which both Aubrey and Stacie had read thoroughly before this meeting. It was also a catalogue of sorts. Aubrey snapped the cover shut and it was only after a few calming breaths, did she managed to fight the impulse to toss the ipad back onto the table.

"This is not one of your better ideas, Stacie," she complained. "She will hate this. We've tried something similar before, remember? That online dating thing? That went SO well."

"That was stupid," Stacie agreed. "Those guys on those sites are pathetic. They didn't understand what we needed, jumping all over her like leeches. That's why we are doing this, Aubrey. We need professionals!"

Aubrey was still looking unconvinced. Stacie checked that impatient sigh and leaned forward towards the uptight blonde. Time to bring in the big guns.

"Look, Bree. I know you have her best interests at heart. I think we should give this a shot," Stacie said softly. "You're her manager. You know how hard she works. She needs this; especially after..."

Aubrey put her hand up, stopping the rest of the sentence. She didn't need to hear it.

"Fine. We'll try it your way," the blonde huffed back. "Only because I've ran out of ideas. If she goes on the way she does, she's going to burn out and we can't have that."

"Trust me, Bree. When have my ideas not work?" Stacie replied smugly.

"Hmm. I can think of a few," Aubrey replied. She shook her head. "I cannot believe I am sitting here. In this...this place, trying to get a..a..." She couldn't quite finish. Because her stomach was clenching again and she could taste the familiar bile coming up. Aubrey spent the next minute, fighting down her urge to toss her lunch on this rather expensive looking sofa. Stacie had come over, quickly rubbing her back.

"Here. Have a drink," she said, swiftly handing over the champagne flute. Aubrey gratefully took a gulp without any hesitation. Stacie hid her smirk. The drink calmed Aubrey down but when she checked her watch again, Aubrey's nerves shot up again. This would not do. That man was more than a little late.

"I think we should go. He's late," Aubrey said, halfway rising out her seat. "What kind of place is this if the owner can't even..."

A knock on the door interrupted Aubrey and a moment later, the door opened.

"Sorry ladies. I was held up."

Both women turned round towards the door and there stood a nondescript looking man with light brown hair. Except for that half irritated, no nonsense look on his face, there was nothing distinctive about him. He was of average looks and average height. _Hmm, for someone in charge, he's shorter than I thought_ – mused Stacie. But her eyes took in the sharp, grey wool suit the man was wearing, the crisp shirt underneath and the shine of the Italian leather shoes on his feet. All designer. All expensive. Business seems to be going well.

The man walked toward the ladies standing by their seats and offered his hand out, not at all bothered that both women towered over him in their skyscraper heels. "Bumper Allen," he introduced himself. He glanced at the drinks on the table. "I hope your wait was pleasant."

Aubrey's nostrils were flaring and Stacie quickly stepped in. "Yes, thank you. The champagne is delicious."

Bumper nodded approvingly. "Please sit. I am aware that your ladies are very busy and will probably like me to get down to business," he said.

 _Astute. Very astute. Aubrey will like that._ \- Stacie thought and a quick glance at Aubrey's face confirmed that.

"Yes," Aubrey spoke up, taking her seat. Bumper waited for both ladies to be comfortably seated before taking his. "You were late -"

"- for which I've apologised," Bumper countered back, very adroitly dismissing Aubrey's complaint. Aubrey opened her mouth to protest but closed it back sharply. Stacie felt a little impressed. Bumper continued, "There was small problem which needed my personal attention. Now ladies, what can I do for you?"

Both women looked at each other and Stacie took the lead. "We are in need of a particular kind of service. For a friend. We've read that article about your place and think you might be able to help us."

Bumper nodded, almost a little bored. He knew which article Stacie was referring to. Ever since he did that interview as an owner of a male escort agency, the phone had not stopped ringing. Their website had so many hits that he had to move Mark from doing floorwork to answer all the queries that were coming in thick and fast. It had been manic but Bumper was glad for the publicity. For once, there was an article in the papers which was positive for his line of business.

"Yes. That article," Bumper answered drily, gazing at the two ladies in front of him. He had his measure of them. Brunette was fine. Blondie was the skittish one. "I can tell you now the numbers quoted in that article are a bit conservative. There are many more women nowadays who pay for escorts."

Aubrey could not help that snort. "I'm sorry. I'm finding it very hard that to believe what you are saying."

Bumper leaned forward, ignoring Aubrey's rude snort.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" he said. "Everyone need a bit of company now and again. Most of my clients are busy women with challenging jobs. They might need someone to accompany them to dinners or parties. They might need someone local to show them a good time. Or perhaps make them feel good for a few hours. There is a need. And we are here to fulfill that need. It's purely business."

"Of course," Aubrey replied, with a sardonic tilt of her eyebrow.

Bumper was drumming his fingers and he came to a decision. "I can see that I could sit here all day and you will not be convinced. Perhaps you'll like to take a look?"

Stacie perked up in her seat while Aubrey looked slightly confused.

"Ladies," Bumper drawled as he rose up from his seat. "Let me give you a tour of the Treble House."

* * *

Lorraine Jackson patted her hair nervously, unsure what to do next. She was standing at the pavement outside her house, next to the black SUV who, moments ago, had regurgitated three squealing teenagers, one of them was her daughter. They had ran on ahead towards the house and here she was, contemplating the younger man in front of her, dressed in flannel plaid shirt and fitted jeans. He was smiling so sweetly, his dimples showing. That was what sealed the deal when she was scrolling through the Treble's catalogue. That sweet boy-next-door smile. It had reminded her of her college sweetheart.

"I've had a great time." the man was saying. Lorraine blushed red, smiling back a little shyly, making her look much younger. The man leaned forward giving her a quick hug and she nearly erupted into girlish giggles but stopped just in time.

"Mom!" Lorraine turned to look at her daughter yelling from the door. "We're hungry," the teenager hollered. "Can we order pizza?" All three teenagers were by the door and were looking at her expectantly.

"Yeah. OK," Lorraine said in reply. "Go in and order pizza. I just have to..uh.. say goodbye to Clark here." The teenagers were already stumbling through the door and Lorraine made sure they were inside before turning back, smiling sheepishly.

"Teenagers.." she said, a little self consciously.

He shrugged easily. "They are hungry all the time. Especially after screaming out their lungs at Justin Bieber."

"Thank you for getting the tickets and backstage passes. I didn't even know where to start to get those," Lorraine was saying now, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. "I think I'm _Mom of the Year_ for those tickets alone."

"You're a great mom just for doing this," he said. "And the tickets and passes were part of the service."

She leaned forward for another hug which he obliged and when they parted, she discreetly tuck an envelope into the pocket of his plaid shirt. "Just a little something for you," she said. "For such a great time at the concert."

He just nodded understandingly and with a last smile, he stepped back and moved towards his car. His company car, actually. He got in. Lorraine was still standing in the same spot as he started the car and he waved his goodbye before driving off. She was still standing on the pavement when he took the turn into the main road.

His work phone rang as he was driving. He glanced quickly at the number, noting who it was and with a swift tap, he answered the call. "Yo man. What's up?"

"Clark?"

"No, man. Jesse." he chuckled. "What's up, Don?"

"Oh, you've finished that job?" came the reply through his bluetooth.

Jesse carefully manoeuvred into the next lane before answering. "Yep," he said. "My ears are still ringing from all that screaming but I'm good. Which reminds me, thanks for sorting out those tickets and backstage passes, man. I'll give you your cut when I see you next."

"Anytime. I know you're good for it," Donald said. "Are you coming to the house?"

"Not tonight. I'm worn out."

"Don't blame you," Donald chuckled. "I'll be tired too, trying to be enthusiastic about Justin Bieber."

Jesse laughed in reply. "It's a job."

"Yeah. Yeah." Donald said. "This month's good for you, dude. I'll send the money over once we work out the commission. Not too shabby."

"Good. I've got textbooks to buy for Sam and they ain't cheap."

"You should do this full time, Jesse. Quit those other pissy jobs you're doing. You'll be rollin' in it, man."

Jesse just laughed. This was an old joke between them.

"Nah, man. You know this is a side thing for me," he replied easily. "Listen, I'm driving so I'll catch you later, ok?"

"Yeah. Alright," Donald replied. "Come in tomorrow. Bumper has a newbie he wants you to show the ropes."

"Yeah. Ok."

* * *

"Not quite what you were expecting?"

Bumper could not help that smirk on his face as he looked at both Aubrey and Stacie. He also could not help asking that snide question. People were easy to predict. They would think an escort agency will be all sleaze and sex. A male escort agency would have buff men, oiled and half naked, dancing like Magic Mike on podiums. With baying women stuffing dollar bills into their briefs.

Yes, some of his boys will do that.

Only if requested and the right fee negotiated. But not in the main areas. The main areas stayed classy. Bumper was very adamant that it should be that way.

"Here is our members' lounge," Bumper explained. The lounge was furnished in the same, luxurious manner as the waiting room. Low flattering light, soft music, nothing too scary or blatantly screaming sex. Just a room where a woman and her friends could feel comfortable having a cocktail or two, served by good looking men. A place where they can be comfortable striking up a conversation or flirt with the men they requested for. And if they hit it off with their choice, well...there were other spaces for them to take it further.

Stacie looked round appreciatively and she could see Aubrey thawing a little. It all just looked so elegant. They could have been in a swanky club uptown. And it all smelled so nice. No strong smell of alcohol or vomit or anything too gross. _They must have pumped some sort of scent in_ – Stacie mused. It smelled musky, almost with a note of something citrussy and refreshing. Stacie blinked in surprise. The room actually _smelled_ sexy.

"Member's club?" Aubrey spoke up.

"Yes," Bumper replied. "Our clients pay an annual subscription fee to access our premises, which you can see, ladies, are all quite comfortable. Call it a ladies club, if you will. They then get access to our other services, of course."

 _Very cl_ _e_ _ver_ – Stacie thought. - _The subscription meant that they could cover the operating costs. That made good business sense. Aubrey would love that._ Stacie could see Aubrey nodding approvingly and she had to smirk. That blondie was all about the business.

"What if our...client.. does not want to come here?" Aubrey asked tentatively. "She would prefer house calls."

"That is slightly unusual," Bumper replied. "But I am sure we can work something out."

Aubrey turned round one full circle before nodding slowly. "Thank you for the tour, Mr. Allen. Shall we get down to business?" At his nod, the three of them sat at the nearest group of chairs.

"Before we proceed, I would like to know more about your...staff," Aubrey said, taking out a slim moleskin notebook and looking at a few notes. "Firstly, I've browsed through your... ermm.. catalogue. It all seems pretty straightforward. But I need to know; are your staff vetted? Do you do background checks include criminal records and financial situation? How about health checks?"

"I run a respectable business here, madam," Bumper replied easily. "My staff are all professionals and yes, we run thorough background checks."

"How about discretion? Do they sign an NDA not to talk about their clients?" Aubrey continued relentlessly. "We will need them to sign a further NDA before we employ your services."

"Fine. I will need to look at that contract."

"The rates you've quoted seems to be on a high side -" Aubrey frowned, checking through her notes. "- for companionship only."

"The rates are good value for money. There is a reason why my clients return," Bumper replied coolly.

"And for any extras?" Aubrey questioned. "I see some charges here for additional services but not for -" She stopped short, a little flustered now.

"Sex?" Bumper finished her sentence. "Our charges are for escort services only, including expenses. Yes, there are some add ons but any sexual arrangements are private between my staff and their clients. We don't have oversight of that."

"Quite." Aubrey replied, making more notes. "Coming back to the background checks, we would need to run ours; just to be on the safe side."

Bumper was looking increasingly annoyed and before Aubrey spoke up again, Stacie interrupted smoothly, "What Aubrey meant to say is... we need absolute discretion. Our friend and your proespective client is rather well known and if any of this were to leak into the press, it could be disastrous. Especially if there is any sex involved."

Bumper sat back in the chair, templing his fingers together and gazing at both women.

"I see," he said finally. "I can assure you that we are very discreet."

Stacie nodded in response already convinced and Aubrey made a few notes in her book.

"Most of my clients are very happy with the service we offered," Bumper continued. "Partly because we provide what a client actually _need_. So, if you could tell me what you are looking for, then I may be able to tell you whether we can help."

Aubrey opened her mouth but it was Stacie who spoke first.

"We need a man for someone who is very sure she doesn't need one."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Sam! Sammy!"

Jesse waited for nanosecond before running up the stairs and hammering on his brother's door. After a good hammer and some threatening rattling of the doorknob, he heard a disgruntled "I'm up already!" from the other side of the door. Jesse chuckled. His brother was not a morning person like him but he had to get up soon or be late for class. He opened the door and just as he expected, his younger brother was sitting up in bed, yawning.

"Wake up," Jesse said cheerily, going into the room and picking up random pieces of clothes from the floor. "Jesus, Sam, can't you pick up after yourself? This room is a mess." Sam's answer was a sleepy mumble that sounded suspiciously like "Stop touching my stuff, you dickhead."

Jesse took in the mess of books on Sam's table and bed knowingly. "Late night, huh?"

"Papers due," Sam yawned, stretching out his arms. He planted his feet on the floor and rubbed the sleep off his face. "Professor Winthorpe won't give me another extension. He's such an ass."

Jesse tossed the armful of clothes he just picked up from the floor into the laundry basket. "Perhaps you won't miss your deadlines if you quit your job at the store," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Sam groaned in response. This was a constant argument between them.

"Don't start. It's too early," Sam replied. "You know we need the money -"

"Don't worry about the money. That's my job," Jesse replied a little tersely. "Your job is to study hard and ace your exams." At the answering grunt from his brother, Jesse continued. "I'm serious, Sam. It's your final year. You should concentrate on school."

"You nag worse than mom!" Sam declared, gazing up at his brother. "I won't quit, okay? It's not fair on you to work two jobs to pay for everything."

Three.

He worked three jobs to pay for the mortgage on the childhood home they nearly lost, to clear their late father's outstanding debts, their mom's medical bills, their everyday stuff and Sam's school fees. it had been a hard few years to make ends meet but they did it. And Sam didn't need to know about his third job.

Jesse went over to his brother, taking an envelope out of his pocket. "Here," he said, shoving the envelope to Sam. "You said you had books to buy. I don't have all of it after paying the bills, but I should have more soon."

Sam saw the cash and grunted out in exasperation.

"Go get ready," Jesse ordered, ruffling his brother's hair affectionately. Sam ducked, muttering underneath his breath. Jesse just laughed. "There's pancakes for breakfast in the oven. Don't forget to pick up Mom's prescription. And clean up your room."

The last was Jesse's parting shot as he walked towards the door. He had a full day ahead and needed to keep to schedule if he wanted to be at the Treble House before 6.30 pm. Jesse was about to leave when he heard Sam calling out to him.

"Hey."

Jesse turned round, Sam was still sitting on his bed.

"Thanks for this, man," Sam said, feebly waving the cash at Jesse. "Umm...I still won't quit my job but I'll tell Mike at the store I need to cut my hours, ok?"

"Yeah, ok." Jesse smiled. He then continued with a mock scowl. "Now clean your room!"

* * *

Bumper Allen was not the type to be so easily fazed.

Did it faze him when his first business venture selling burritos failed spectacularly? No. Did it bothered him when his taco cart, the pride and joy of his second business venture, was torched overnight when he didn't cough up the protection money? No. How about that time when the first two escorts from his books went off to set up a rival agency? Was he annoyed? Not the slightest. Because Bumper Allen always took things in his stride. He knew there was always a solution to every problem if you look hard enough.

Yet this little conundrum presented by the two ladies yesterday was bothering him. He leaned back in his chair, thinking of the meeting.

Bumper knew the secret to the Trebles' success was his ability to suss his clients out. A few careful observations and Bumper would know what exactly made his client tick. It was some sort of sixth sense. So how was he supposed to pick a guy for a client he'd never met? He tried asking about the two ladies about this mysterious 'friend' of theirs. They had been extremely vague; just that she had recently got out of a long relationship, was practically like a hermit snowed under with work and deserved a bit of fun.

When probed about what type of guy the lady like, both of them had very different ideas of what they thought would be suitable. The tall brunette didn't care how the guy looked as long as he was well endowed. Blondie said it had to be someone ridiculously hot with a beach ready body. The two nearly came to blows. It was almost funny to watch

They may not agree on the type of guy but the ladies did agree on one thing. They both had kept schtum when asked for the real identity of this 'friend' in question.

Bumper snorted in disgust. That had been terribly annoying.

He knew they wanted absolute discretion. That was not a problem. His boys were well trained. They had quite a few celebrities, foreign royalty and even a judge' set to be a senator as part of their clientele. What was one more famous person?

He had been tasked to choose suitable candidates for them to look through, ideally by five p.m today. Most of the high powered women using their services knew exactly what they want. And those who didn't, would promptly do once they looked through his boys' extensive profiles. Bumper never had to choose anyone blind like this. He could send a selection of his best but that was like shooting in the dark. It was not how he liked to work.

The jangle of the phone next to him was rather loud. Bumper frowned at the 'Anonymous' caller ID before picking up the receiver and answering in his usual clipped tone. "Bumper Allen."

"Mr. Allen?" A perky voice came through.

Bumper rolled his eyes. Didn't he just answered the call with his name just now?

"Yes," he answered impatiently.

"Hi, I'm Ashley from AP Management. I've been asked to give you a ring?"

 _Who is this cheerleader?_ \- Bumper thought sourly. "What's this? Is this a sales call?" he barked grumpily.

"Umm….no," the perky voice answered. "Ms. Posen wanted to remind you about the deadline today."

Posen? Ah, yes. Aubrey Posen. The blondie.

"Deadline's at five," Bumper answered, glancing irritably at the clock on the wall opposite. "It's only twelve noon."

"Ms. Posen just asked me to remind you, Mr. Allen."

If it was even possible, that voice got ever perkier.

Bumper was really pissed off by now and he was about to yell at Ashley from AP Management to tell her boss, that uptight Ms. Posen to...Hang on, Did the girl said AP Management? Bumper quickly looked through the folder and found the name card the blonde handed over primly last night.

"Mr. Allen?"

"Yes, I'm still here," Bumper replied, hastily scribbling some notes. "Ashley, was it? You can tell Ms. Posen she'll have what she needs by four." He didn't bother to say goodbye, ending the call abruptly. Bumper dialled an internal number which was answered after two rings. "Donald?"

"Yeah?"

"I need your help. Get me all you can on AP Management talent agency."

"Sure. What do you need? Annual returns? Backers? That sort of thing?"

"No," Bumper replied, confident he was on something now. "List of female celebs they represent. And any other gossip you can dig up for the last six months."

* * *

"Hey! You're late!"

Jesse was about to lock the car when he heard that holler from the staff entrance of the Treble House. He jumped guiltily, nearly dropping the car keys. He was late? He thought he left on time and traffic wasn't so bad. Jesse quickly checked his watch. When he saw he was actually fifteen minutes early, Jesse turned towards the grinning Indian man, lounging by the doorway and roundly cussed him.

"Fuck, dude. What are you trying to do to me?" Jesse cursed, walking up to Donald.

Donald just grinned widelr, pushing his dark hipster specs up. "Just messing, man," he said. "Gimme the keys before you forget. Did you get it valet?"

"Yep. And I've filled the tank," Jesse confirmed, handing he keys over. The car was part of the company fleet and the Trebles could drive one, depending on the job they were going to. "Whose taking it out tonight?"

"Benji. Got a booking downtown."

"Benji?" Jesse asked, his grin matching Donald's. "Man, that's like the third time this week. He's getting really popular."

"I know," Donald said. "Chicks are really digging that nervous virgin vibe coming out of him. Every one of them had been asking for the male virgin experience. He's been a born again virgin at least six times this month."

"No one's going for his magician thing, huh?" Jesse laughed. "I told him they will freak about the pigeons."

Both of them were chortling as they walked into the house. The staff areas were not as swanky as the client's at the front of the house but it was pretty comfortable. There was a kitchen with plenty of food and drinks, showers, a lounge area with sofas and a pool table and a locker room. And just recently, Donald had a jacuzzi installed.

"You feel like working the floor tonight?" Donald asked once they reached the office. "Tom blew me off tonight. I need someone to cover section B."

Jesse grimaced. "Nah, man. I need to be home early. I've been working too many nights and need to keep an eye on Sam. Besides, I am not over the last time I covered Secrion B. That woman pulled me by my junk, dude, and tried to stuff money down my crotch."

Donald remembered that incident too well. Clients were not supposed to touch the staff on the main floors but that woman had been pretty drunk.

"Hazards of the job, my boy. Hazards of the job," Donald replied sagely, patting Jesse on his shoulder. Donald's cellphone buzzed and he read the message. "Ok, I gotta go. Bumper wants me. Show the newbie the ropes and tell me what you think of him. That"s all you need to do tonight."

The newbie was pretty easy to spot. He was the one sitting slightly stiffly at Reception, not exactly sure what to do. Jesse had been there before. He knew how nerve-wrecking it could be no matter how confident you were. Jesse gave the once over. Not too bad looking and Jesus Christ, he looked young. Almost Sam's age? They were just getting younger everyday.

"Hey man, you the new guy?" Jesse called out, coming nearer.

The guy looked up nervously. "Uhh..yeah?"

"Hi, I'm Jesse," he replied, sticking out his hand for a shake. "And this is the Treble House. I'v ebeen told to show you round." The guy stood up and shook Jesse's hand and dutifully followed Jesse after picking up his backpack next to his feet.

"What's your name?" Jesse prompted, looking over his shoulder.

"Umm...Eddie."

He must be nervous - Jesse thought. "Ok, Eddie, let's start with a quick tour of the place. Then I show you the staff room, make sure you get a locker and then we talk. You are on floorwork today with Smith. He'll take you under his wing after this. Leave questions to the end, OK?"

Eddie nodded and Jesse started the tour, pointing out all parts of the Treble House; what he could and could not do the which areas, his duties when doing floorwork (be polite, take drinks and snack orders correctly, light flirting ok but nothing beyond and the 'no touching' rule). They ended up at the staff room at the back. The other guys were prepping for the evening, getting changed into their uniforms. They were a racous lot and Eddie looked even more nervous now. Jesse took a beer out of the fridge, handing it over to Eddie.

"I can drink during work hours?" Eddie asked, looking at the bottle in his hand.

"No," Jesse said. "Only after work. But it's your first day here so we are all giving you a toast." He turned round and hollered to the group of Trebles, fighting for some mirror space. "Guys! GUYS! This is Eddie. It's his first day."

"Hi Eddie!" "Dude, good luck!" "Woooo, fresh meat!"

Eddie seemed stunned at the wall of noise. Taking pity on him, Jesse spoke up, "Let's get a seat somewhere and talk." They moseyed to a quiet corner and sat down. Eddie still looked slight petrified and Jesse reassured him, "I know it's a lot to take in but you'll be ok after a few shifts. Don't worry too much about it."

"Ok." Eddie mumbled. "Umm..just curious. How long you've been here?"

"About three...four years. Off and on." _Has it been that long_? - Jesse frowned. "I knew Donald and Bumper back in college and helped out in the beginning. The money's good, you know."

Eddie nodded enthusiastically.

"Any tips?" he asked. "I've not exactly done anything like this."

"You'll be fine," Jesse said with a smile. "Otherwise, Bumper won't hire you. He's pretty picky. Word of advice though. It's not about you, it's about the client. Make her happy and you are home free."

Eddie was mouthing the words silently, like he was committing whatever Jesse said to memory. Jesse took a swig of cola and spoke up,"So, dude, tell me your name."

Eddie looked a little lost now. "Umm...it's Eddie?"

Jesse laughed at this. "No, man. Your handle. Your alter ego."

When that was met by a confused stare, Jesse explained. "Get a work name, OK?" He waved towards the boys. "See that fella with the fedora? His real name is Harry but he goes by Koolio. And that guy there is Jonathan but he goes by Uni. I'm Jesse but when at work, I'm Clark."

"Sounds confusing."

"Trust me, it helps," Jesse said. "It's good to separate work and home. Which reminds me, try and get a separate work phone. Just in case you don't want anyone to know about this."

"Ok. Jacob. I go with Jacob."

Jesse raised his eyebrows. That was not too bad considering Eddie bore a passing resemblance to Taylor Lautner.

"Good idea. Just make sure you tell Donald," Jesse said. "Did Donald or Bumper tell you the rules?"

"I read through all the paperwork," Eddie answered haplessly.

"Fine. I'll go through them with you," Jesse replied. His light banter turned serious. "Hard rule number one: No drugs when working. They don't care what shit you take off hours but when you are with a client, you stay off the drugs and you stay clean, ok? It's for your own safety."

"Ok."

"Rule number two," Jesse continued. "Bumper would have agreed your escort fee before the booking. The client would've paid before you even get there. That means you don't have to talk about money during the job. But if you hit it off with the client and she wants any extras, negotiate the fee upfront."

Noticing Eddie's eyes widening, Jesse nodded. "Yes. Especially for sex. Just agree what service is required and what's the fee. It avoids a lot of aggro, believe me."

"I..I'm not sure I know.." Eddie stammered. "I mean...how much should I charge for going...you know...downtown?"

"Technically..." Jesse drawled out. "...the Treble House does not offer those kind of services, so there's no set price list. But you may want to have a quiet word with Donald for advice. Of course, that's if you wanna go that route. A lot of us here just happy being escorts, you know. Without the sex thing."

Eddie seemed to visibly relaxed. "Ok. Stay off drugs. Agree extras upfront, what's next?"

Jesse finished his drink before leaning forward, his brown eyes serious.

"Rule number three is the most important," he said. "Do not fall in a love in a client. Do not make a client fall in love with you."

When met with another confused state, Jesse sighed, scratching his chin. How can he make this clearer?

"Ok, imagine you're having a good time with a client," Jesse explained. "Dinner, drinks, she's all dressed up and pretty. You both laughing and talking, sharing your innermost thoughts. She likes you, she flirts with you, you flirt back. It's all good. You may or may not have amazing sex afterwards. Sounds great, right?"

"Yeah.." Eddie grinned nervously.

" Wrong!" Jesse replied, slamming his hand on the table and making Eddie jumped. " Your time is paid for. You're paid to do those things. You're paid to say those things. That is all the client wants from you. Not a relationship, not some long term thing. It i's a business transaction."

Eddie visibly gulped and nodded quickly.

"It's a job, not a date," Jesse said. "It's not real. What she said, what YOU say is not real. It's just a job. Remember that."

"Yo, Jess!" They both heard Donald shouting and turned towards him. "You done scaring the newbie yet?" He was smirking a little as he came over. "Eddie, go and get changed into your uniform. Smithy's waiting at the front. You'll do a few hours at reception tonight."

Once Eddie was out of earshot, Donald spoke up.

"So..what do you think?"

"Yeah, the cougars will eat him alive," Jesse decided after some deliberation. "His handle is Jacob. You might get some Twilight mileage out of that."

Donald made a mental note and then, said pointedly. "Dude, what did you say to him? He looked like he was about to piss himself."

"Nothing, man. Just the rules." Jesse replied. "You know me. I'm all about the rules."

"Yeah. Yeah. No drugs, get the money, don't fall in love. We all know that." Donald answered back mockingly. He glanced fondly at his old friend. Jesse was loveable, an upbeat, positive, warm character who always looked out for others. It was just sad that the last few years had been hard on him.

"One day, Jesse, just you watch, it's gonna happen to you," Donald smirked.

"What?" Jesse said, standing up next to Donald. Both of them made their way towards the staff exit.

"Those rules. You are SO going to break them. Big time," Donald chuckled. "And I'll be here saying I told you so."

"Not gonna happen, man," Jesse laughed, slapping his friend on his shoulder. Donald can be so funny sometimes. Jesse didn't do drugs. He was always careful with money. And that last thing? he didn't have time for all that. He was far too busy and which girl would understand what he needed to do for a living? Jesse shook his head, still laughing. "It's never going to happen, Don."

* * *

 **Two weeks later**

Jesse studied the text on his phone.

He was in a cafe right across the address he was supposed to be at. A few taps on his phone and the notes about the latest job flashed up. He read through them again, mulling them over.

The job seemed straightforward, at first. The client requested for a meet up at a hotel. There was some complicated procedure he needed to do before the client will contact him directly with the room number. He was told to dress smart casual and not to look too out of place.

Then the details started getting sketchy.

He had to sign off a bunch of contracts, including an NDA and permission for a background check. That was fine. The client was careful. What Jesse could not make out was what was he supposed to do. Usually, Bumper or Donald would tell him; whether it was just a straight dinner and drinks that the client requested, or the 'boyfriend' experience or some sort other of role play. He had to pretend to be a tv repair man once and spent a good hour fake repairing the tv while the client talked and flirted.

Yeah, he had his fair share of unusual jobs.

Some were good; like being arm candy at a swanky party or accompanying a client shopping. He only had to make appreciative compliments as the client showed him one change of clothes after another and hold the client's shopping bags while she bought nearly the entire boutique. That was easy. He had done jobs which were totally fun; like bringing client to a sports game. Yeah, he had enjoyed that job. Jesse could not believe he was being paid to watch a major baseball game and what the client wanted was for him to explain the rules. That had been good.

Not all jobs had been fun.

Jesse remembered the jobs where he had to play therapist. The times when the client was freshly divorced or a wife who had just found out her husband was cheating. Those always ended up with the clients talking and talking and talking throughout the entire booking, trying to unburden themselves. And his job was to listen and made them feel beautiful and make them feel good about themselves.

No, he didn't mind those jobs so much.

The ones he minded were the ones that strayed from the brief. Like the times when he turned up for a lunch date; only to find the client sitting on the sofa in revealing lingerie, expecting him to strip and service her. He had made his excuses and left. Or the times when he had spent the requisite two hours being the perfect gent throughout dinner and then the client started to grope and kiss him, forcing a kiss, wanting more. Which was fine. He had his price after all. But when he started slowing it down to get the client to talk figures, they had been insulted. Like they expected a freebie after paying for his dinner and drinks.

Jesse shook his head. Those had been the worse.

His phone buzzed and Jesse read the new text.

 _The Leighton Suite. Twelfth floor._

Jesse tucked his phone back into his pocket and checked he had all his things. He left the cafe and casually walked across the street to the rather grand entrance, complete with doorman. Jesse didn't break his stride, confidently walking through. The doorman had opened the door deferentially tipping his head and Jesse gave a small nod in response. Once in the lobby, he looked for the Gents and after carefully combing his hair and washing his hands, he popped a mint into his mouth.

He was ready. It was showtime.

The ride up the lift was not that long and soon he was on the twelfth floor. Only four suites for the entire floor. Plush carpets, fresh flowers on gracefully carved sideboards on the corridors, soft lighting. Hmm, very nice. He stopped in front of the Leighton Suite and before he knocked, Jesee pondered what sort of client this would be. Suites in The George Hotel did not come cheap. Nor did the Treble services.

Jesse buzzed the bell and waited.

Maybe the client was some high powered business woman, late forties, chain smoker with a stressful job. Total ball buster and would want a sub? Or a much older lady in her seventies, a dragon with a stern face and wrinkles, wanting to drink up his blood to keep herself young. Jesse was about to laugh off that ridiculous idea. He had watched far too many horror movies. He heard the door handle being turned and Jesse straightened up, mouth already stretching into his trademark smile. If it was really a dominatrix or vampire queen dragon, he'll make a run for it.

The door swung open.

A tiny brunette was standing on the other side, five feet nothing in bare feet, skinny jeans and a strappy burgundy top. Her wealth of hair was loose behind her except for some sort of complicated braids at her temples to keep flyaway strands out of her face. Her eyes were the clearest blue.

He knew he was staring.

The brunette arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Can I help you?" she said; except there was nothing helpful in her tone or on the rather moody expression on her face.

Jesse felt he should say something. Surely she was expecting him? After all, the booking had been made and he got the right address. She didn't say anything else, pointedly gazing at him. Was she really not expecting him? He should say something and not just stand here, staring like a weird sex pest. But his throat was so dry and he found it difficult to say anything.

And to make matters worse, Jesse Swanson knew her.

He totally knew her.

* * *

 _ **AN :** Umm... There will not be that much smut in this story. ;) _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Jesse stood at the doorway, feeling a little nervous. "Ahmmm...I'm here for Miss Lane?"

Thank God.

His voicebox still worked.

The brunette was still staring unnervingly at him. He tried clearing his throat quietly, which was impossible in this heavy silence between them. His mind was now speeding a mile a minute. Maybe there had been a mistake? It had to be. Because this lady standing in front of him right now would never, ever need the Trebles services. Ever. She was famous. There must be, like a thousand guys the world over who would...

"Lane?" She had snapped the name out so loud it made Jesse jump.

"Errr..yes. I have an appointment with..umm..Miss Lane," he stammered back. _Smooth, Jesse. Could you please stop stuttering?_ He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck in nervousness. He was sure he looked flustered as it was.

The brunette rocked back on her heels, still staring up at him. She tucked her hands into the pockets at the back of her jeans, the movement making her rather impressive rack jut out in that low cut tank top. "I'm the only one here," the lady drawled out, shrugging her tiny shoulders, making her creamy cleavage rose up against her burgundy top. To his credit, Jesse kept his eyes where it should be. On her face.

"I'm sorry. I must have the wrong address," Jesse backed down. He'll sort this out with Bumper. They must have sent him the wrong one. He smiled apologetically, his cheeks dimpling. "Sorry to waste your time."

He had already turned away when he heard a barely muffled, exasperated sigh from the doorway.

"No...you've got the right address."

Jesse turned back and the brunette had a tiny scowl on her face. Everything about her was delicate and tiny. You couldn't really tell from all the posters and the banners, the album covers and the photos in the press. She was miniscule.

He was staring again. Jesse knew that.

"Come on in," she continued, stepping aside to let him in.

She closed the door behind them and walked further into the suite. Jesse hesitated for a second before following her. The suite was incredible, with cream and gold furnishing, fresh flowers on every available surface. They passed by the bedroom on the way in. The door was ajar and Jesse saw the king size bed, strewn with papers and sheet music. A sleek, top of the range Macbook was opened, perched on top of a pillow. They were now in the livng room and the brunette turned round to face him and for the second time in as many minutes, Jesse was at a loss. She seemed to expect him to do something by the way she was looking at him and Jesse mentally flailed about thinking what he should say next.

"Umm...I should introduce myself -" Jesse started. Yeah, that was a good start. Be friendly yet professional. Now if only he could stop stuttering. "I'm Clark and I'm yours for the next two hours."

She was gazing at him blankly. Wow, she was tough one.

"So -" Jesse continued valiantly. "The brief did not exactly mention what you will require. Perhaps we can start with -"

"What did you say your name was?" came the waspish question.

Jesse stopped short.

"Clark. My name's Clark." he answered. He watched as a hundred different expressions crossed her face, all of them thunderous. She was muttering various swear words underneath her breath and Jesse quickly spoke up, "Umm.. you can call me anything you like; although nothing insulting, please. You don't have to call me Clark."

"No, it's fine," she answered, rubbing her temples like she had a headache. "My friends have a sick sense of humour."

Jesse mulled over that and then the penny dropped. He tried not to grin because she was still looking quite put out but the more he tried not to, the harder it became. The lady noticed it. She was trying hard not to smile too.

"So Lane?" Jesse hazard a guess. "As in Lois Lane?"

"Just Lane, please. For this meeting, I'm Lane," the lady said. "Please don't tell me your full name is Clark Kent. I don't think I can bear the cheesiness of it all."

Jesse chuckled, feeling a little less nervous now. "No, just Clark, he answered. "I thought you would have known my name since you've made the booking."

Another exasperated sigh came out from her. "I didn't choose you. My friends did," she explained. "That's why I don't know how you looked like. Sorry for just now."

"It's fine," Jesse shrugged.

So her friends put her up to this. That would explained the animosity at the door. It was not the first time some well-meaning friends had done the hiring. Usually it was for a birthday party or hen night and it involved a strip-o-gram and some lap dancing.

"What would you like to do?" Jesse asked. Now that they had broken the ice, he felt more confident slipping into his professional mode. "Would you like me to fix you a drink? Maybe we can sit down and talk?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head decisively. "I've got work to do."

"Ok. I'm here for two hours so I'm happy to wait until you're done."

"No, dude," she stressed. "I really don't want to do anything. I just need to get my work done."

Well, that was... unusual. He had never been in a job where the client did not want to do anything. They usually have a pretty clear idea what they want. She must have seen the uncertainty on his face because the brunette took charge.

"Hey, don't take this the wrong way. I'm just really busy," she said. She picked up a remote from the coffee table and tossed it to Jesse. He caught it but fumbled the catch, nearly dropping the remote. That earned him an eye roll from the brunette. "Why don't you watch tv or pay-per-view?" she suggested. J"ust..umm...no porn, ok? And order anything you want from room service."

Jesse nodded. The brunette was already stalking past him towards the bedroom but she stopped at the doorway.

"No porn," she reminded him.

"Yeah. I got it," Jesse said, turning slightly, smiling at her. She just scoffed and went into the bedroom.

Jesse stood for a minute, trying to figure out what was the deal with the woman. Obviously her name was not Lane but if that was what she wanted him to call her, that was fine. She was the client after all and his job was to make the client happy.

She also asked him to watch tv.

Jesse sat down on the comfy sofa and switched on the tv. There was no other noise coming out of the bedroom but he could not help feeling a little edgy. This was just so weird. Maybe she was one of those really weird ones? Oh, he knew very well it takes all sorts. The Trebles sometimes swapped stories amongst themselves and he had heard of the weird things they've been asked to do. Maybe he would be just innocently sitting here and she would swoop in and attack?

 _Get a grip, Jesse_ \- he told himself sternly - _If she tries to be funny, you are much bigger than her. She's like a hobbit._

And with that thought, Jesse chuckled to himself and surfed through the channels.

* * *

Beca Mitchell didn't even know why she let Stacie and Aubrey talked her into this.

What the hell was she doing in this hotel suite with a...a..manwhore sitting outside? That was what he was, right? How on God's earth did they convinced her this was a good idea? There must have been copious amounts alcohol involved and relentless nagging.

 _It was the nagging_ , Beca decided. _It had to be the nagging_.

Both Stacie and Aubrey and to a degree, Amy and Chloe. They all nagged her for working too hard, for not meeting new men, for not...ugh...dating. Lily didn't say anything much but she only had to whisper some really random thing and that was enough to freak Beca out. The girls seemed to have made it their mission to make sure she was having some male company; it was tiresome.

She knew they were worried that she was practically a hermit. But she had work to do. So much work. And no, she was not trying to drown herself in her work after that broken engagement. As far as Beca Mitchell was concerned she was over it. It didn't work out with Luke. She knew it. He knew it. Especially when she caught him balls deep in her slut of a PA. She even amicably returned the two-carat diamond ring. By throwing it into the nearest river and burning all his designer clothes and football shirts. But she was done. Done and over with, and she was not adverse to meeting new people.

Beca suddenly scowled.

Ah, shit. The girls knew her too well. They knew Beca would not make any effort to meet new guys. Hence this stupid, elaborate scheme of actually hiring someone to be with her. They were not taking any chances. _Well, the joke's on them_ \- Beca thought smugly. She was just going to use all these bookings to have more time to work. They didn't need to know what goes down. At least, it will stop them nagging and she can work in peace.

Oh, Beca knew exactly what Stacie was playing at. She could almost hear the tall brunette chastising her about not 'feeding the hunter." In this case, the hunter being her hoo ha and feeding meant...Ok, never mind.

Was that why they hire a man whore?

They told her that his time was paid for and he'll be happy to do anything she wanted. Be it some dinner, or talk or... sex? Ugh. Beca irritably tapped on her keyboard, trying to concentrate on her work but the thought of a sex worker sitting right outside was not helping. What if he tried to... you know, be sexy? Or come into the room and started to strip and thrust his junk in her face? That would be horrifying. Oh God, maybe she should get up and lock the door, just in case?

As if they could sense her freaking out, Beca's phone started ringing. Aubrey's ID flashed up on the screen and Beca picked up the call.

"Beca? You called?" Aubrey's voice came through the receiver.

"About time!" Beca scowled. "I called an hour ago."

"I was just in a meeting with Scully. It ran late," Aubrey explained. "But it's good news. He's happy with the deal and we got what we wanted. They are amending the contracts and will send them through."

"That's good news," she replied. "Email those through once they arrive. I have, like a hundred different things to do but I could -"

"Hang on, what time it is? Aren't you at The George already?" Aubrey asked suspiciously.

"Umm..yes, I've checked in." Beca said guiltily.

"Hold on," Aubrey said and Beca heard her talking off the phone. "Stacie, what time was the appointment?...what?..that's like half an hour ago...I don't know. She's still on the phone... Beca?"

"Yup?" Beca answered.

"Your appointment. Did he arrive?"

"Errr..."

"I knew it!" Aubrey yelled down the phone, nearly deafening Beca in the process. "He didn't send anyone! Professional, my ass. Get off the phone now, Beca. I'm going to call that Bumper Allen and tell him he could go -"

"Whoa! Whoa, Bree. Calm down." Beca quickly piped up.

"- and shove that stupid Treble iPad - "

"Bree! It's fine," Beca nearly yelled, trying to get a word in edgewise. "He's here."

" - up his snooty...what? He's there?" Aubrey stopped her tirade. And after a moment of suspicious hesitation, Aubrey began to grill her. "What are you doing on the phone? Aren't you - isn't he - Wait..are you working?"

"Umm.., no?" Beca said tentatively.

There was silence on the other end and Beca could almost see Aubrey's nostrils flaring. She was going to blow up; Beca knew it. At that very dangerous moment, she was saved by the very person they were talking was a knock against the open door and Beca looked up to find the guy, poking his head round, smiling at her. Hastily, Beca s poke into the phone, "Bree, someone needs me. Gotta go!" She heard an indignant squawk from the other end but Beca was already cutting the call.

"What is it?" she said testily, tossing her phone onto the bed.

"I was about to order room service," he drawled, still with that cute smile.

Wait. What? Did she just thought his smile was cute? What?

"Do you want anything?" the man was saying. "Maybe a light salad and some cold Pelligrino?"

Oh. He noticed the opened Pelligrino bottles. That was pretty observant. Beca's tummy suddenly rumbled quite loudly, much to her embarrassment. He kindly didn't comment about it although Beca did not miss the way his smile got just a little bit wider.

"No salad," Beca said. "Burger, medium rare, wagyu beef if they have it. And fries."

"Ok," he said. "Burger with fries."

"And onion rings. Lots of onion rings. And a sweet pickle."

"Ok."

"Heinz ketchup. And bacon."

"Anything else?"

"Diet coke with ice." Beca said. "And Kraft singles with the burger. Don't judge."

His grin was far too cheerful.

"Not judging," he replied, raising his eyebrows. "I'll call once room service is here."

He backed out from the doorway and a minute later, Beca heard him on the phone to Room Service. She could almost make out the conversation. He was speaking in a low, husky tone, politely relaying the order and thanking the staff.

Huh. Quiet and polite and pretty tame.

She could work with this.

* * *

She was deep into her work, headphones over her ears that she nearly missed the rap on her opened door. Beca looked up to find him waving at her. "Dinner's here."

She took off the headphones, rubbing her ears to get rid of the slight numbness and rose from the bed. Beca moseyed out of the bedroom and as soon as she reached the dining area, the delicious smell of grilled burger with melted cheese and tonnes of fried stuff hit her. Her saliva glands went into overdrive. Oh man, she was so hungry. Beca nearly ran to the dining table, wanting to scoff the food down this instant but she remembered herself at the last minute.

 _Be cool, Beca. It's just a burger_ \- she reminded herself.

The guy was also fussing over the dining table, laying out the plate and cutlery properly; even going so far as pouring out the Diet Coke in a tall glass with lots of ice. Just the way she liked it. That was rather...nice. He looked up to find her hovering.

"Dinner is served," he pronounced with an expansive arm sweep over the table. It could have been so cheesy the way he was acting except he did it with a mocking smile it was almost funny. And now he was drawing the chair back, gesturing with a nod of his head that she should sit down.

Beca frowned. Was this guy for real?

She sat down and he made a big show of shaking out the starched napkin that came along with the cutlery. He was about to place the napkin on Beca's lap when she snatched it away. "Watch it, dude," Beca scowled. She could do that herself, thank you very much and ugh, she didn't want his manwhore hands near her.

"Ok," he said blandly in response. "Enjoy your dinner."

And with that, he went off, back into the living room.

Beca was halfway demolishing her burger when she realised that she was eating alone. Specifically, the meal order was for one. Did he not order something for himself? He did say just now he was getting something. Beca had enough pathetic dates to know when given carte blanche, most guys will order expensive stuff like lobsters and Moet on her account. She could well afford it, of course, but she found it quite irritating all the same.

Beca popped an onion ring in her mouth and chewed slowly.

She was curious now. What did that guy ordered? And was that popcorn she smelled?

Taking one final bite from that yummy burger, Beca wiped her mouth and hands before rising up from the dining table and making her way to the living room. She stood at the doorway. He was sitting on the sofa, the back of his dark head towards her and he was tossing popcorn into his mouth.

Beca glanced at the tv.

Some sort of 80s movie was on. She racked her brain to remember which one it was. But gave up after two seconds. Movies wasn't her strongest suit. She could never made it to the end. He seemed pretty into it though; not even noticing she was standing right there. Beca cleared her throat loudly and the guy jumped a little and quickly turned round. He had a slightly guilty look on his face.

"Hi," he said brightly. He stood up in one fluid movement and simultaneously put the volume on mute and perching the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. "Do you need anything?" he was asking now, his brow furrowing a little "Was the burger ok? Do you want me to get you something else?"

"Dude. Chill. Burger's fine," Beca answered. "What are you watching?"

The guy glanced at the screen. "The Breakfast Club."

Beca lifted one eyebrow. Of all things he could watch, he chose some old movie?

"Do you have supersonic hearing, Mr. Clark?" Beca said. "The volume's pretty low."

"Didn't want to disturb you," came the grave reply. He was smiling that half crooked smile yet again. The one she thought was cute. "Besides it's one of my favorites. I practically committed the dialogue to memory."

Ok, nerd alert. Beca came nearer to the sofa, taking in the massive bowl of popcorn now half empty and wait, were those juice pouches? "I smelled popcorn."

"Yeah. Well," he answered almost deprecatingly.

"Is that your dinner?" Beca said, picking up the bowl and frowning into the popcorn. "Why didn't you get something to eat?"

"This is plenty, really," he answered.

"Juice pouches? What are you? Five?" Beca said, picking up one empty pouch, examining the back closely.

"Don't diss it," he responded. "Best beverage ever."

That sealed it. He was a weirdo, with a taste of a five year old. Beca shook her head in mild despair. Yep, this guy was way beyond borderline weirdo.

"Would you like to join me?" he suddenly asked. "It's just coming to the end."

"What? The movie? Nooooo," Beca quickly said.

"You sure? It's the best part."

Ok, he shouldn't be smiling at her like that and using those eye s like that. He looked like a freaking puppy and any girl would probably be mad to refuse that look. But Beca Mitchell was made of sterner stuff.

"Dude, no. I'm not really into movies."

Ok, why did he looked like she mortally wound him?

"You don't like movies?" he choked out in disbelief.

"No, not into them." Beca confirmed. "They are just so predictable. Guy gets the girl. They live happily ever after. The end. Life's not like that. The guy gets the girl but before you know it, he was chasing any pretty face that pass by. Life fucks you over most of the time."

Shit, where did all that vitriol came from? Beca shut her mouth before any more bitterness came out. Easy, Beca.

"So what are you into then?"

Beca looked up at him, unsure what to say next. He still had that easygoing expression on his face. Her unexpected outburst didn't seem to faze him the slightest.

"If you are not into movies..." he prompted.

"Music." Beca replied. "I'm into music."

"Well, Miss Lane, you've come at the perfect time," he piped up. The guy picked up the remote and turned up the volume. "You have to see this ending."

* * *

 _Happy New Year everyone!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She looked like she was about to bolt.

Jesse took in the way her eyes went wide and that slight lean of her body. She was like a startled deer and Jesse was positive if he made any sort of sudden move, she would run. What the hell spooked her? He only suggested she watch the ending.

 _Ok, not the way to treat a client, Jesse. You are not support to frighten her, you idiot._

He sat back down, relaxing into the couch. Jesse let a few moments past, turning his full attention to the tv. When she still did not move, he turned and beckoned her over, patting the seat next to him lightly. His face was etched with his most reassuring smile yet the lady was still scowling at him suspiciously. Jesse thought she would bailed but then a miracle happened. She made her way over, albeit a little reluctantly and perched herself at the edge of the sofa. Jesse did not want to push his luck. He turned back to the tv and let the silence fall between them.

"What are you showing me?" he heard her speaking up.

"The ending of The Breakfast Club. 1985, one of John Hughes' finest," he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen. The goodbye scene was being played and his favourite song was playing. Jesse waved vaguely towards the tv, his face splitting into a grin. "This is the best part. This song launched Simple Minds in the U.S. It could've been a Billy Idol song but he turned it down; that idiot. But it perfectly sums up the whole movie. It's both sad and beautiful."

He heard a scoff.

"How so?"

"Just think about it," Jesse replied. "These reluctant misfits were thrown together and forced to spend time with each other. They become friends. Barriers and walls came down. We see them finding things about each other and about themselves, yetwe don't know for sure whether they'll still be friends on Monday."

Jesse warmed up to the subject.

"There was this whole dialogue earlier where Claire...that's Molly Ringwald's character...was so sure they will not be friends beyond this, because they are all from different social circles. She was called a bitch but it was the truth. While they could be friends like this, right here right now, things are different in their normal lives."

He turned just to make sure she was following what he was saying. Only to find her staring at him with those eyes. Jesse paused for a moment.

"That's why the song is so poignant," he continued. "They may pass each other on the hallways on Monday and ignore each another but you know... _Don't you forget about me._ "

She glanced to the screen and for a few moments, was absorbed with Bender's voiceover reading out his essay.

"I never see the movie that way," she confessed. "I always thought it was pretty boring. Don't get me started on Allie's makeover. That was pretty scary."

Jesse laughed.

"What?" she scowled, staring st the screen. "I prefer how Allie looked before. She didn't need any pimping."

"Yeah, I can relate why you like that alt girl look," Jesse said. He briefly let his eyes raked over the lady sitting at the other side of the couch and quickly looked away when she turned back to him.

"You're really into this, huh?" she said.

"What? The movie?"

"The movie, the song..." she continued, nodding towards the tv.

Jesse took a moment to think of his reply.

"It's the score," he finally answered. "It lifted the whole thing onto another level. It made a mediocre ending to something else. Music is just so powerful, you know. It can change lives and blow people's minds."

There was a beat of silence before she answered, sounding much softer than before. "I can understand that."

Jesse nodded, turning towards her with a smile. "Yeah. I think you would."

They were just looking at one another while the credits rolled. She tilted her head to one side, scrutinising him.

"Who are you really, Mr. Clark?"

"I am not sure what you mean," Jesse replied, frowning slightly.

"My friends put me up to this. They said they hired an escort for me. A professional," she spoke up evenly. "I was not too happy but I want them to shut up and went along with this. I didn't really want you to be here. But so far you've been...different."

"What were you expecting?" he asked.

At his question, the lady shrugged but her face spoke volumes. Jesse did not need to press further. He knew very well what people thought of escorts, gigolos, prostitutes, man whores. Most of the time those names or the disgust behind them didn't bother him. He knew what he was doing this for. It was just a job. But somehow at this moment, he felt...a little shabby? Like he was not good enough to be here?

This was not good.

No one had ever gotten under his skin like this before. He needed to get his head back into the game.

"You are the client, Miss Lane. I'm here to _please_ you," Jesse said huskily. He had inflected the _please,_ dragging it out a touch longer. Jesse noted with satisfaction how her head had snapped up in response. "Just tell me what you want. I'm happy to do it."

Her stare was unflinching like she was trying to read his mind.

"Right," she replied, getting up to her feet. "I'm going back to my work. Just let yourself out when it's time."

And with that, she walked away and Jesse heard the bedroom door clicked shut.

* * *

 **The next day**

"So. Tell me how last night went."

Beca took a huge yawn and glanced irritably at Stacie. The tall brunette was perched at the corner of the dining table, her eyes ogling Beca while she was trying to eat her breakfast. Room service had turned up just ten minutes ago and she really wanted to dig into her eggs florentine. Stacie had other ideas though.

"Becaaaa..."

Stacie's wail was grating and Beca out her fork down with a groan.

"Can this wait until I had something to eat?" she said churlishly. "And coffee. This can definitely wait until I finish my coffee."

Stacie huffed impatiently, now looking round the suite. She straightened up and took a walk round, ending up in the bedroom. Beca could hear her opening the ensuite bathroom before she came and perched back at the exact same spot.

"You know why I am here so early?" Stacie pouted. "I was hoping to catch your stud at work."

Beca nearly choked on her eggs.

"Uh. No." Beca shut her eyes momentarily. "None of that."

"What? He didn't show you a good time?" Stacie pressed further. "Damn it! I was so sure. Despite that boy next door looks, he got that glint in his eye, you know. Like he could be really dirty."

"No, I don't know," Beca scowled. "Aubrey was clear it was just a date. No sex."

"Yes, but were you not tempted? All you need to do is to negotiate a price," Stacie said easily. "Come on, Beca. You haven't had sex since L-"

"Stacie, stop!" Beca spoke up, holding up her hand. "I am not just going to have sex with some random guy. I don't even know why you girls are doing this. Isn't this dangerous?"

"Quite the opposite, my dear. " Stacie said breezily, taking a nail file from her clutch and began to file her nails. "We've checked him out. All clean. Good references, great feedback. You need a professional, Beca. Someone who know what he is doing. No strings, no hard feelings."

Beca shook her head. Her friends' logic defied her sometimes.

"What if he blabbed? Have you check the papers today?" Beca said.

"Very discreet service. Nothing in the papers, just so you know," Stacie replied. "We'll sue the Treble House within an inch of its life if anything comesout." Stacie put her nail file away and smirked at her long time friend. "Did you not like him? It took me hours to choose him for you."

Beca thought about last night. "He was... not like I expected."

Stacie tapped her chin thoughtfully and then took out her iPad, opening her email.

"If you don't like him, there are others," she said. She found what she was looking for and pushed the tablet towards Beca. "There's a few. Choose one for your next date."

This time Beca definitely choked on her breakfast. Stacie cheerfully thumped on her back and offered Beca her glass of OJ once she finished coughing.

"There's more than one? Aren't we done with this hare brained scheme?" Beca squeaked.

"Nu-uh," Stacie shook her head. "Remember what's happening next month?"

"Chloe's getting married," Beca replied, taking another bite of her egg. She thought fondly of the redhead. She always knew Chloe would be the one amongst them to get married first. "The wedding's next month. All of us are going."

"Yes...and who else?"

Beca was busy cutting the muffin on her plate when what Stacie meant finally dropped.

Ah fuck.

* * *

 **The week after**

God, he was tired. Bone tired.

Work was brutal today. He had run himself ragged at the office trying to sort out all the changes Mr. Robertson wanted to all those insurance policies. He had to explain to an old lady sounding tremulous over the phone why the company had rejectsd her insurance claim and the poor dear was crying so hard Jesse tried to dodge flirty Gina who was trying to corner him down at the photocopier room.

If it was not enough, his shift at the bar was hairier than usual. It all started badly when he was a little late, having to run home to check on his mom. Sam had to stay behind at school and he had to make sure mom was okay. It made him late and Marcus was again eyeballing him, making snide comments about his commitment to the job. It was a bartending job, for fuck's sake. And he only stayed because the boss let him play live music once a week. During those times, the audience had been great and generous with praise and tips. If not, he would have jacked this stupid bar job months ago.

When Donald and Bumper appeared at the bar just when he was about to close, egging him to come out and have sometime to eat, Jesse could not be happier. It was not every night that Donald and Bumper make an appearance. But when they did, they were in for a long one. They would end up, deep in burgers and fries at the nearest all night diner and talked about anything and everything. It was a throwback to when they were in college and after the day he was having, Jesse needed it. He would suffer tomorrow at work but some things were definitely worth it.

He was midway biting into his burger when Bumper spoke up.

"How was that Lane job?"

Shit. Bumper gonna go there? Did he get a complaint? Jesse chewed his burger slowly, mulling over the question. How did that job go? Not a total wipeout but not a total success either. He had did exactly what she asked him to do and when his two hours were up, Jesse had knocked softly at the door to say goodbye. He didn't get an answer. She was probably deep in her work with those huge headphones on and couldn't hear him. He had debated on whether he should knock louder or perhaps tried opening the door but common sense took over. She clearly didn't want his company.

"It was ok," Jesse replied. "I don't think she was happy with me though."

Bumper swirled the straw in his milkshake. "You didn't go all starry eyed on her, did you?" he frowned. "I thought you'll be cool with someone like that."

"I was cool." Jesse objected. He totally was. Yeah, true, he did stare a lot but she was pretty. She was really, _really_ pretty. He didn't stare just because the client was THE Beca Mitchell, singer/songwriter extraodinaire. It had threw him a little when she opened the door but Jesse thought he recovered magnificently. He never had such a talented star as a client before. Why would she even need to hire someone like him? She was rich and famous. Hell, she had hits under her belt before she turned nineteen.

Jesse couldn't help asking. "Did she complain about me?"

"Nah, man," Donald chimed in. "We're just curious. Her manager arranged to have three dates in a row. You were first. We sent two more and both were sent packing within ten minutes. She's tough. I think one of boys came back crying."

"Yeah, she is a little...difficult," Jesse said. "I can't work out what her deal is." Oh? Two more Trebles? She had dates with two more? He was suddenly itching to know which ones. Bumper and Donald would never tell thoughand he knew all of them would have signed that NDA. So no talking, not even in the locker room. _Which ones, though?_ \- Jesse thought a little jealously.

"So the next date, you are it." Bumper said decisively, slurping his milkshake noisily.

Jesse was still thinking about who the hell those two were that Bumper's announcement sank in a little late. It did sink in though.

"What? Dude, no."

Both his friends raised their eyes at him simultaneously in surprise.

"You don't want it?" Donald said. "She's pretty hot."

"It's not that," Jesse replied a little unsure.

"She's paying top rate," Bumper answered, the businessman as usual. "The pay's pretty sweet, bro. I hate to lose her clientele."

"That's exactly it," Jesse said, waving a fry in exasperation. "I don't think she likes me. You're going to get an unhappy client who'll demand her money back. Send someone else."

Donald and Bumper exchanged a look.

"No can do," Bumper said breezily. "The next date is at her apartment. We need someone trustworthy." He paused to slurp more of the milkshake. Seriously. Bumper was addicted to that thing. The sound of him sucking through the straw was really loud.

Bumper put down the empty cup and leaned forward towards Jesse, fixing him with cool eye. "I don't know what you did that night, dude but it worked. She specifically asked for you."

* * *

 **AN :** _Hi all, I'm sorry for the short chapter. I had to cut the next scene because it will make this chapter far too long. I am also seriously having a major wobble about Jeca and Pitch Perfect right now No guesses why; you all know why. I just need to get my head back in the game. Please show me some love. Have a lovely week, all._


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is dedicated to all you awesome JECA fans.**

 **Chapter five**

Beca took off her headphones and rubbed her tired eyes. The dining table was littered with all her papers and notes and there were at least ten screens opened on her laptop. She should done all this work in her studio; it would have been more comfortable, but the appointment was tonight. She would be meeting Clark again tonight. Beca took a gulp of the cold coffee next to her elbow, mulling over her thoughts. She did not know exactly why she asked for that dark haired man. Well, the other two Trebles had been disasters. At least, that Clark guy had been a little bit different. As if on cue, her phone rang, jittering across the glass table.

"Miss Beca, there's a gentleman caller by the name of Clark down here for you."

Beca smiled on hearing Lou's voice from Security downstairs. He was a lovely old man, almost like a grandad to her. At the moment, Lou's voice over the phone sounded like he had a million questions and Beca suppressed her laugh.

"Yes, can you send him upstairs, please?"

She was by the door when the bell rang precisely at seven p.m. Right on time, just as arranged. That was pretty good. Beca opened the heavy door and he was standing outside, all smiles and dimples, dressed in a light jacket, a nice blue shirt, opened at the neck and expensive jeans.

"Hi." he said.

"Hey," Beca replied. "Come on in." She moved to one side to let him enter and the door fell shut behind them. "Did you find the place ok?"

"Yeah. Only the most prestigious address this side of town," he commented, giving her a wry smile. Damn it, she forgot how cute his smile was. And contagious. His smile was contagious. She couldn't help giving a small smile back.

His forehead wrinkled. "Wow, the security's pretty tight in here, huh? I swear the guy downstairs nearly gave me a cavity search."

"Yeah. Don't mind Lou," Beca said dismissively. "He's a sweetie, really; just a tad protective. He just wanted to make sure you're...you know, not a serial killer."

"Not a serial killer," he said, pointing his thumb at himself.

Beca squashed that smile itching to creep further across her face. She was leading him deeper into her huge penthouse and he followed after.

"Thank you for inviting me over," he said behind her. "I was not expecting it, to be honest."

"What?" Beca said, looking over her shoulder. "You were not expecting to come here? Would you prefer to meet at the hotel?"

He looked a little uncomfortable.

"No, I'm happy to meet up wherever you want," he answered. "I was not expecting to be invited back at all."

Beca frowned.

"It's easier here," she replied nonchalantly. "And more private. You've proved to be quite harmless so I'm ok with you being here."

He nodded back at her like it all made sense.

"I wasn't briefed what you wanted for this booking," he was saying now as they walked towards the living room. "I'm not sure whether I'm underdressed or...overdressed."

He trailed off at that point, sounding a trifle embarrassed, like he suddenly realised what he was saying. Beca was rather glad she was ahead and her back was towards him because her cheeks felt a bit hot all of the sudden.

Beca cleared her throat. "You're fine. We're staying in."

"Ok," he replied. "Nice place you've got here."

"It's alright." Beca shrugged, playing it cool.

They were in the living room now and Beca smirked a little at the awestruck look on his face. Her place was not just "nice": it was fucking awesome. Especially that floor to ceiling window running along one side of the wall, opening up to the balcony with that stunning view of the skyline. That was the reason she bought the place. So she could see the view while playing at the baby grand she had installed right in the middle of the room. The sunsets were always spectacular.

"Umm..so. Quick tour," Beca spoke up. "Here's the living room. Tv's over there." She gestured at the 72in. plasma and the state of the art entertainment system. "I don't know how to work the bloody thing but I guess you'll figure it out. Bathrooms over there. Dining room here and let me show the kitchen."

He followed at her heels like a puppy.

"Just help yourself to anything," Beca said once they stepped into the kitchen. "There's some food in the fridge. Mrs. Thomas always keep some dinner in there, just in case I got hungry."

He whistled in appreciation at the gleaming kitchen, his face creasing into a smile, "Nice kitchen. Cook much?"

That earned him an eye roll and a scoff. He was obviously teasing her. Did she look like someone who knows how to use a stove? She had staff for that. Beca lounged by the doorway, watching him walking round the kitchen. It was kind of endearing the way he was nosily checking everything out. He stopped in front of the stainless steel fridge and opened the huge door, poking his head inside.

"We've got chicken salad. Oh. And lasagne," he was saying from the depths of the fridge. Beca was too busy noticing how nicely his jeans fitted him. Yeah, his ass was nice but who knew jeans-clad thighs could be so hot? He drew back, looking round the door at her. "So...what will it be?"

"Huh?" "Beca snapped out of her ogling.

"Dinner. Would you like me to warm up the lasagne?"

Much to Beca's embarrassment, he seemed to know she was checking him out.

"Umm...no. Just get something for yourself," she said, colouring a little. "I'm...I'm not hungry. I've got a lot of work to do."

He took another moment to scrutinise her. "I'll get something later," he replied, looking back into the fridge. Then he clocked something and that face splitting grin was back on his face. "Hey, you've got juice pouches! Aww, I knew you liked them."

Wait. What?

"What juice pouches?" Beca muttered, coming over. She peeked round, underneath his arm and true enough, gone were her cans of Coke Zero, to be replaced by rows and rows of juice pouches.

"Ugh. God no," Beca groaned. She elbowed he in his ribs and he yelped a little. Her elbow was pretty sharp. "This is ALL your fault," Beca said accusingly. "Aubrey must have seen that obscene amount of juice pouches on the hotel bill and thought it's my thing now."

He did not look contrite at all.

In fact, he was chuckling in response to her annoyed outburst and Beca just stomped away in irritation, leaving him in the kitchen. She returned back to the dining table, intent on getting some work done. Beca settled into her chair, grabbing her headphones and putting them on. Just when she was about to lose herself into her music, Beca caught him skulking at the periphery of her vision. Beca frowned, looking up from her screen to find him standing feet away, looking somewhat sheepish.

"What do you want, nerd?" Beca said waspishly, pushing the headphones off.

"Didn't want to disturb you-" he spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck. "- but I'm kinda wondering what you want me to do?"

Her sigh was long drawn and dramatic.

"Anything you want," Beca said. "Just don't disturb me."

She pulled her headphones on, already thinking the conversation was over but it was not. He was still rooted to the spot and Beca looked up at him peevishly, pushing her headphones off again.

"What?"

It came out a little sharper than she meant.

"Here's the thing -" he said, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "If you don't want to be disturbed, wouldn't it be better not to ask me to come?"

Beca was pulling the headphones off and tossed them on her laptop. "I'm beginning to regret asking you to come at all," she muttered, scowl firmly on her face.

His eyebrows lifted before he shoved his hands into his jeans and took a step back. "Ok," he said slowly. "I'll speak to Bumper and say there's been a mistake." He was already turning away and walking towards to the main door.

"Wait."

He stopped in his tracks. It took a few moments but he finally turned around with a stoic expression on his face. She was already on her feet. Beca gazed at him intently, her head tilted to one side.

"Alright, you can stay," she said grudgingly. "We've paid the Treble House in full anyway. At least, if Aubrey asked, I can say you were here."

His eyebrows shot up.

"Thank you," he said. There was a slight trace of sarcasm in his tone, which she did not missed.

"I don't know why you're complaining," Beca retort back. "You're being paid to do nothing. I wish I had that luxury."

He gave that some thought and a lazy smile spread across his face. "You know, you're right. So.. I can do anything I want, huh?"

"Anything," Beca replied emphatically. "Watch tv. Have a bubble bath. Try on my clothes. I don't care. Just don't disturb me while I'm working."

That final sentence seemed to shut him up. He went back to the living room, leaving her where she was. Beca sat back down and tried to get back into her work. Fifteen minutes later, she was still staring at her screen. Nothing seemed to make sense. Why couldn't she focus? This is stupid. This must be his fault. He interrupted her train of thought and now she couldn't focus. Why did she even ask for him?

Beca snorted out in the frustration, drumming her fingers on the table.

Actually, if she was being honest, it was kinda nice having him here. The apartment did not seem so empty; or too quiet with him around. Like now, for instance. He's probably watching a movie, being the weird nerd that he was. She could hear the music coming from the tv.

Wait. Hang on.

Beca frowned, her ears pricking up. That was not the tv. She rose up from her seat and made her way towards the living room. She was half expecting to see the back of his head as he sat on the sofa in front of the tv, engrossed in whatever 80s movie he was hung up on. The TV was not even switched on. Yet, that music. It sounded like...

Beca wheeled round slowly and there he was, sitting by her piano, playing it. He didn't notice her standing by the doorway, too rapt in what he was doing He had his eyes closed, a happy smile tracing his lips.

And he played beautifully.

She recognised the piece. Chopin. Notoriously difficult. Beca was gobsmacked he was actually playing it from memory. She didn't know how long she stood there staring. She must have stared too hard because his eyes suddenly popped open and he saw her by the doorway.

"Sorry," he said as his playing stuttered to a stop. "Did I disturb you?"

His face blushed red and he looked momentarily shy. It was kinda adorable.

"No," Beca replied, slowly walking over, standing next to the piano. "Please. Keep going."

He seemed to hesitate before placing his hands back on the keys. Slowly he started playing Fur Elise. It was a much easier piece, something beginners would start on and God knows how many versions of this piece was all over the place. In bad films, in commercials, in tinny sounds plinking from jewellery boxes. But Beca was enchanted. He played the arpeggios beautifully, the transition to the lighter mood was flawless, that thrill of notes and that segue to the heavier section. All was so beautifully done. The pauses as he built and crested each section were leaving her breathless. She almost wanted to clap when he finished the last note.

"Where do you learn to play like that?" Beca asked.

"Same as other people, Miss Lane," he quipped. "I had piano lessons." His fingers ran a playful riff up the scales and he smiled up at her. "Would you like another song? I take requests."

Beca just stared at him.

"Something heavy?" he prompted, unfazed by her silence. He bashed out Beethoven's Fifth Symphony with a heavy hand and a mock scowl. He chuckled at the look of horror on Beca's face "No? Maybe some jazz?"

His fingers coaxed out a jazzy tune.

"Not your thing?" he asked when she still didn't respond. He regarded her with a serious look on his face."Hmm. You're a tricky customer, Miss Lane, but I'll work you out yet."

Beca scoffed.

"You think you can work me out?"

"Sure," he replied confidently. "I just need to find...hmm..Ok, let me try something."

He started playing something that sounded familiar. Beca couldn't quite place it until he began to sing.

 _"I'm just a bachelor, looking for a partner,"_ he sang _. "_ _Someone who knows how to ride, without even falling off._

Beca didn't bother to hide her surprise. "What? Seriously?"

"Pony by Ginuwine," he replied with a shrug. That irrepressible smile was still on his face. "It's a classic."

"In what world?" Beca answered back.

He didn't reply, breaking into song instead. _"Gotta be compatible, take me to my limits. Girl, when I break you off, I promise you won't wanna get off."_

She tried not to let that laugh escape. He was being ridiculous. There he was playing this song on her piano, giving her a cheeky smile and winking up at her. Not in a million years would she expect something like this.

"Come on, you know you wanna sing with me, You know the words," he said. " _If you're horny, let's do it. Ride it my pony. My saddle waiting, come and jump on it."_

No. She was not going to join in.

"This is a great song," Jesse said, still playing the the tune. "You should really embrace it."

"No."

He chuckled at her stubbornness.

" _Sitting here flossing, peeping your steelo_ " Jesse sang out. " _Just once if I have the chance...the things I would do to you."_

Ok, there must be a scientific explanation for that sudden heat in her face and that little frisson running up her back.

".. _you and your body, every single portion._.."

"Please don't sing the next line," Beca interrupted loudly. He stopped singing and grinned back up at her.

"What do you have against juice?" Jesse commented with a mock scowl.

"Ermm...I think we both know they were not talking about juice pouches in that next line," Beca scoffed back.

"Why, Miss Lane, you are not shy, are you?" he teased. "It's just a song."

No. It was not just a song. It happened to be a sexy song, sung very well by this rather cute guy with a freaking hot voice. Seriously. That voice should be illegal so no, she would not stand there listening to him singing about juices running down her thighs.

Wait. What?

Her thighs?

Ok, this was enough. She need to do something now to get back the upperhand. He was being far too cocky. Beca came round to the front of the piano.

"Move," she ordered.

When he shifted down the bench, she sat down, wriggling a little against him. She placed a hand on the keys, gave the song a moment thought before playing it perfectly note by note. Jesse watched her fingers on the keyboard, listening to her play. Of course, she would get it right the first time.

She then tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned her face towards him.

"If we're gonna get nasty, baby" she sang, the corners of her mouth turned in a sexy smirk. "First we show and tell... Till I reach your ponytail..."

Jesse laughed.

"I don't have a ponytail," he said, gesturing to his short hair.

Beca shrugged. "I don't know. You're the one with the pony."

"This song is ridiculous," he answered, still laughing.

"Yes, it is." Beca said. "But, you know... _If you are horny, let's do it. Ride it, my pony. My saddle waiting, come and jump on it."_

She gave him a slow wink, still with that smirk on her lips. He laughed and joined in the chorus, both of their voices melding effortlessly. When they came to the end of the song, her grin as wide as he was.

"Let's do another one," she said, launching into another song, her fingers nimbly going across the keyboard.

Jesse just stared at her profile, seeing that flush on her cheek and that smile on her face.

God, she's hot.

* * *

"So you play the violin too?"

Jesse looked up from wine glass he had been sipping on to find her gazing at him. They had a blast playing duets on the piano but all that singing was thirsty work. She seemed to be in a good mood and left the room, only to come back with several juice pouches; one she tossed carelessly at him. Somehow the juice pouches graduated to a bottle of chilled white wine and now they were seated on the opposite ends on this long couch, facing each other, talking.

"Among others," Jesse shrugged. "Clarinet. Cello. Guitar. A bit of drums. I can play all those. I suck at drums though."

She had an incredulous look on her face. "What are you? Some sort of music prodigy?"

"Just interested," Jesse replied non-commitedly.

He had started music lessons young. His parents could very well afford all those extras then. He had lessons; he attended summer camps. There was a music room in the house with just his stuff. It was hard giving them up one by one when money became tight; harder still when he had to flog his beloved instruments to pay an unexpected bill. Jesse had been sad about that but he had consoled himself that he was too busy working to even play anyway. So it was a good thing to get rid of the stuff. They had bills to pay.

"You ok?"

Jesse snapped his attention back to the present. Again she was scrutinising him with those blue eyes, like she was trying to read his mind.

"Yeah," he answered quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Beca took in that smile on his lips. He took another sip of the wine, breaking eye contact. She was sure she saw a flash of sadness in his eyes just now but it was gone just as quickly.

"You play really well and you are obviously into it" she continued. "Why don't you...you know, be a musician full time, instead of..." Beca faltered to a stop.

"Instead of being a prostitute?" he finished her question for her. "Is that what you're thinking of?"

She could feel how hot her cheeks were.

"Well..." Beca flustered.

"You should really read the contract before these dates. Didn't your manager... Aubrey, was it?.. brief you about this?" His tone was scolding yet gentle. "I'm not a prostitute. Gigolo. Male hooker. Whatever you are thinking of. I'm an escort. And I don't do is full time."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Beca started, trying to find the right words.

He seemed to take pity in her discomfort.

"Please don't be embarassed, Lane. I'm really ok with this. It is just a job," he replied. "But you should know there are differences in what I do and what a rent boy at the corner of 45th and South do."

Beca was a little curious now. "How is it any different? Don't both of you guys provide..uhh.. You know.."

"Sex?"

Beca flushed again. Was it the wine? Her face kept getting hotter and hotter and there he was sitting over there looking cooland collected. It was unfair.

"You have to stop finishing my sentences for me," she said a little crossly.

"Then you should really finish them yourself."

Beca narrowed her eyes. That was a little bold.

"Ok, tell me what's the difference between you and a rent boy?" she said. "From what I can see, it is purely geographical. You both get paid for sex."

"I like to think I provide a better experience," he answered without any trace of embarrassment. "I work as an escort, that means It's little more than just a quick fumble in a dark alley or the back of a car. With me, sex is not guaranteed. Don't get me wrong. I have my price. But most of the time, it's not the sex that women want."

Beca shook her head. "I don't think I understand."

She heard a soft sigh and a low chuckle from him.

"Do you want to know what I think?" he replied. "I think you are a little hung up on the labels and you are overthinking this. Why don't we just relax and talk? I'm really here to spend some time with you."

Beca was eyeing him warily.

"Promise you won't go...umm... full hooker on me?" She could not believe those words came out of her mouth. She didn't even know what she meant by that. It didn't seem to bother him because he was chuckling yet again. This guy was far too cheerful for his own good.

"Don't worry. If it comes to that, it's only when you ask for it, ok?" he assured her. "And we talk prices before anything happens. Deal?"

He didn't offer his hand. The deal was explicit in the way he arched his brow. Beca chewed her lower lip, thinking about what he said. She felt much more comfortable now and yeah, he was quite good company.

"Yeah. Ok. deal."

* * *

"Tell me how you got into this."

Jesse wiped his mouth carefully with the napkin, biding his time. The lasagna was delicious. Her tummy had rumbled and Jesse had suggested perhaps she should eat something. She agreed and he had heat up the lasagna in the fridge while she tidied up and set the table. She was sitting across him now, playing with her fork.

"You should eat up before it gets cold," Jesse replied, nodding towards her barely untouched food.

Beca looked down and grimaced a little.

"It's delicious. Why aren't you eating?" he asked.

"Nothing. I'm not hungry," she said, putting down the fork and taking another swig of her wine. "And you are changing the topic."

He _was_ trying to deflect the question. No client had ever been that interested to ask and he was not entirely sure how he should answer. He definitely didn't want to drag his personal life into this.

"The money's good," he replied. "And I'm working my way through nursing school."

She scoffed in disbelief.

"That was Channing Tatum's line from SNL," Beca answered back. "If you are going to lie, at least be original."

"Not a lie. At least, not all of it," Jesse shot back. "I'm telling the truth. The money's good."

Beca pondered about that. OK, he was being cagey. But she was being a bit of a bitch, trying to find out things about him that was probably personal. She was really intrigued though. He was turning out very different from what she expected.

"You are overthinking it again," she heard him saying. Beca raised her eyes to meet his. He had that smile on his lips again like he was thoroughly amused. He carefully placed his fork to one side and spoke up. "Ok, I got a feeling you are dying to know more about this whole...business." He waved his hands vaguely. "So, ask me anything. I'll give you a crash course. It's educational."

Beca tilted her head to one side.

"I'm just curious," she said. "I've never met someone in your job before. What do you have to do? Do you have qualifications? Are there like.. what? Night classes?"

"No. No night classes," he answered, shaking his head. "No special qualifications. Just an eagerness to please."

"Really? I thought you have to be...you know, hypersexual or something?" Beca said, her brow creasing. "Or at least loves sex. I mean, you have to satisfy all those... clients..."

The chuckle coming out of him was almost teasing.

"Not really. Those coming into this game thinking they are a stud usually don't last," he replied. "It's not all about sex. Although it does help if you know what you are doing. Most of the time, the sex is secondary. It's the experience before. Women are complicated creatures. A lot of times it's the fantasy that they wanted us to provide."

He was frowning thoughtfully and then continued.

"There's a Treble who is a fantastic salsa dancer. Most of his bookings are clients wanting to dance with him. They said dancing with him was better than sex."

She could not help that bubble of laugh coming out of her. That seemed to encourage him and he gave it a little more thought.

"Umm... we have the usual fantasies, of course. The Christian Grey experience. Very popular; after that book came out. The boyfriend experience. The voyeur window cleaner. Pizza delivery man..."

"What? Pizza delivery?" Beca interjected.

"Yup. I've heard that could go very wrong, very quickly though."

Beca's jaw dropped. "You mean..."

"Yep," he nodded. "Poor guy didn't know what hit him. He was really there to deliver pizza. The Treble turned up about ten minutes later."

"Oh my god. Does it always go wrong like that?" Beca replied, trying to stifle her laugh.

"No, most of the times it goes great," he answered. "It's just a matter of knowing what makes your client tick."

"Oh?" Beca said, her eyebrow arching. "So you think you know what makes me tick?"

"I do."

"What? You knew me, like for five seconds. What makes you think you know what makes me tick?"

"Please," he scoffed. "Yours is so obvious, it's almost unfair."

Beca tried to think where she had been so transparent.

"Music." he answered. "You told me the first time we met. And I think us singing at the piano just now proved it. "

God, she was transparent.

"If you don't mind me saying, I think you look really beautiful, just as you are."

Beca frowned hearing the compliment. What was he playing at?

"The lasagna is really yummy. Your housekeeper is a talented cook."

Beca looked down at the plate in front of her. Mrs. Thomas was really a good cook and the lasagna was her favourite. She also had a photo shoot tomorrow and her insecurities about how she looked had surfaced. Her eyes landed on the man before her. He was smiling yet again, gazing warmly at her. He had picked up his fork and took a large mouthful of the lasagna. Beca shook her head. This Clark guy must have some sort of psychic power. She picked up her fork and began to eat.

* * *

"I had a great time," Jesse said. "Thanks for having me."

"I had a good time too. Thank you," Beca replied.

The two hours were up and they were at the doorway. He was just leaving. Beca watched as he put on his jacket and checked he had everything. She nervously shoved her hands into her jeans.

"So... will you be free next month?"

Jesse turned towards her, looking slightly surprised.

"Next month?"

"Yes."

"I need to check my bookings," he said carefully. "Why don't you get in touch with Bumper and ask for me? He'll work something out."

"No. I need you for a week," Beca blurted out, aware that her cheeks were flushing now. He was looking slightly shell-shocked and she felt she had to explain. "I've got a wedding to go to. I think it would be great if you... if you come with."

"A week?"

"Yes. It's in London. The wedding's in London," she answered hurriedly. "They have this whole schedule before the big day. Stag do, rehearsals, so much stuff...We'll pay the full rate, of course. Plus all travel and expenses. You'll need clothes. We'll pay for that. And shoes. Any other stuff you need and incidentals.."

"I'll love to."

That halted her nervous verbal diarrhoea.

"You'll come?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her. "Just get in touch with Bumper. He'll arrange everything."

"Ok."

Beca nodded slowly.

"I'll wait to hear from Bumper."

"Ok."

"I'll see you then, Lane."

Beca nodded mutely. He was already turning away, that smile on his face.

"Wait," she spoke up. "There's one more thing."

He had stopped and turned back to face her.

"What is it?"

Beca took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"You'll have to pretend to be my boyfriend."

* * *

 **AN :** _Hello all. Thank you so much for all the love you've sent through the reviews and PMs. You guys are amazing. I really don't know what I'll do without my Jeca squad. I will continue working on the stories, please rest assured. It might take some time but I'll finish them, damnit! I hope you like this chapter. There will be a lot of talking and getting to know before I dive into a shmex scene or two. Please don't get bored. They are getting to know each other and as much as I love the whole "love at first sight" trope, I am of firm opinion they need to get to know each other before they fall in love._


	6. Chapter 6

_Previously on **You're the only prayer I need**_

 _"No, I need you for a week," Beca said. "I've got a wedding to go to. I think it would be great if you..if you come with."_

 _"I'll love too."_

 _"There's one more thing," she spoke up. "You'll have to pretend to be my boyfriend."_

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

It was entirely her fault.

Beca should have known to check the caller ID on her phone before picking it up, but she was in the middle of discussing with Sid the sound engineer, about how flat that baseline was and no, she was not happy about it while simultaneously trying to sign off these bunch of paperwork before her flight to London. Her phone had rung shrilly and Beca had picked up the call without looking. If she had, she would have time to steel herself against the transatlantic shriek that came through her earpiece.

"Beca? Becaaaaaa! Oh my god, Beca!"

"Jesus Christ, Chloe!" Beca swore. "My ears!"

She immediately pulled the phone away from her ear and even at a distance, Beca could still hear Chloe babbling on excitedly. Beca waited until the redhead, thousands of miles away, simmered down before bringing the phone back to her ear.

"- a whole week and I can't wait!" Chloe was breathlessly saying. "We're going to have so much fun."

Beca signed the last of the documents and waved Sid away before settling in her chair to talk to Chloe. " Chlo, calm down," she said. "I'm trying to run an empire here. I missed half of the things you said."

"Oh. I was just saying I can't wait to see you," Chloe replied. "Finally I'm going to see my best friend. God, I miss you soooo much. London sucks without you."

"Who asked you to marry an Englishman?" Beca countered back, laughing. "You could have married a nice solid American guy named Chad or Ted or Brad and we'll be knocking back shots for your hen night downtown. But nooooo, you have to hook up with Lord Thomas Pilsworth-Smythe of Sussex. Is that even a place?"

There was a momentary silence before Chloe wailed down the line. "But I thought you like Tom."

"Yeah, Tom's great." Beca agreed. She was not lying. The staid Englishman was the exact opposite of Chloe and would be good for the flighty redhead. Whether he knew what he was getting into marrying Chloe Beale was another story. "But seriously Chlo? We have to drag our sorry asses to UK for your wedding."

"I'm sorry you guys have to come all the way here," Chloe said, contrite now. "We have to get married at the church on his family estate. His father did that. And his father's father. And his father's father father -"

"Yeah, Chloe. We know."

"You're still coming, right? You haven't cancelled your flights, have you?" Chloe said, sounding almost tearful. "If you can't make it, I'll tell Tom we'll have to move the dates. Just say the word and I'll change it. I can't get married without my maid-of -honour. And Aubrey and Stacey are my bridesmaids -"

"Chlo -" Beca said. "Can you calm the fuck down? I'll be there, OK? We will all be there. I am literally going to the airport in the next ten minutes. The plane's chartered. Our bags are packed. Stacie even broke up with her latest man just in case she hook up with someone from the wedding party. We can't miss your wedding, you crazy bitch."

Chloe seemed to simmer down a little at that and shifted down a gear.

"Did you get the schedule?" Chloe asked. "There's like ten thousand things happening. I didn't know weddings here are so complicated. We're going to have the hen night, the stag do, rehearsal dinner, there's that bit at the park. I'm going to squeeze a few spa days for us -"

Beca zoned out, letting Chloe talked. She had a quick look at the stuff Chloe sent but had been too busy to look at it properly. Beca usually leave these kind of things to Aubrey or Stacie. They will tell her what to wear and where to turn up. She usually just rock up to the party.

" - I'm so happy you're bringing your new man. Stacie said he's really hot.." Chloe was saying now. "Babe, for a while, I seriously think you wouldn't come. Because that douchebag Luke is going to be there. I am so sorry, babe. He's like Tom's oldest friend or something. They went to the same school since nursery -"

"Excuse me, what?" Beca interrupted, snapped out of her zone. "What did you say?"

"Ermm...you know Luke is going, right?" Chloe spoke up, a little nervously.

"No, no. I know that," Beca said, frowning. If only her cheating ex-fiancé was not going, it would've been heaps better. But he was the best man; something which was decided way before Beca found him balls deep inside her PA on Beca's work desk no less. Beca took a deep breath. "What did Stacie told you?'

"You've got a new maaaaan!" Chloe squealed, nearly deafening Beca again. "And not just any guy - you're bringing him to my wedding! He must be something special, huh?"

"Ermm..." It was Beca's turn to be nervous. "Yeah. He's...he's special alright."

"Shit! That's why I rang. I want to know more! I cannot believe you didn't tell me you're seeing someone, Beca Mitchell. You didn't tell your own best friend. I need to know. Tell me moooaaaarrrr. "

"Ummm...You've been busy with the wedding," Beca said, trying to deflect the interrogation she knew was coming. "Really, there's nothing much to tell."

"What's his name? Stacie didn't say."

"Umm...Clark?"

"Clark what? I need his full name for all the wedding stuff."

"Ermm.. Kent?"

"Clark Kent?" Chloe said in surprise. "His name is Clark Kent?"

Beca silently cursed herself.

"Pftt Chlo! Of course not," Beca swiftly answered, laughing a little uneasily."That was clearly a joke! His name is not Clark Kent. Obviously."

"Ok, how did you two met?" came the quick interrogation.

"At a party." Beca decided that was a pretty safe option. People meet at parties. That sounded plausible. "He played some stupid song on the piano to impress me."

Yeah. That had been pretty cute.

"He plays music? Oh man! That's like your kryptonite," Chloe squealed. "Aww. This is all so sweet! What 's his favourite football team? What does he do for a living?"

"Umm..."

"How many brothers and sisters does he have? How many ex-girlfriends? Have you google them? Have you google him? What's his Facebook? Let me go look."

"No, please don't do that."

"Have you met his parents? Have he met your parents?"

"Whoa..whoa Chloe!" Beca said in a panic. "We're nowhere there yet."

"Oh you taking it slow. Ok, Good job," Chloe said, approvingly.. "But he's good in bed, right? Remember in college how you swore nothing less than eight inches? So.. Aren't you going to tell me how he measured up?"

"Hey..umm...Chlo," Beca spoke up. "You must have a million bridey stuff to do -"

" - not really -"

"Aubrey's trying to get me on the landline," Beca lied through her teeth. "I'm just going to see what Aubrey wants. You know how she gets -"

" - wait. About Clark -"

"I'll text you his name and...his other stuff, ok?" Beca hurriedly said, ready to drop the call. "I'll see you soon, ok? Ok. Bye. Byeeee."

The last thing she heard was a confused sort of babble of Chloe before she cut the line. Beca dropped her phone on the table and slumped back on her seat, groaning. It all seemed like a good plan. The way the girls talked about it, it sounded like a good, foolproof plan. But Beca knew it. It was wrong. Chloe will figure out the whole fake boyfriend thing two seconds after she set her eyes on them. They would get found out. Luke would know. She would be the laughing stock of the whole wedding.

And fuck, what if someone leak it all to the press?

* * *

Jesse had to pinch himself just to make sure he was not dreaming.

That offer of an all-expense paid trip to London had been quite a surprise. He had a really good time that night. He was sure she did too. They had talked, she was way more relaxed and Jesse felt he was getting to know her better. So at most he could hope for was for her to ask for him again. But instead she had stood at the hallway, nervously asking him to go to London as her 'boyfriend'. Ok, the last bit was a little weird but he could roll with that. He couldn't think of anything better than to go to London and be the 'boyfriend' of a super hot, super talented star, fake or otherwise.

Still, the request was nothing short of a miracle and a small part of him thought it was perhaps too good to be true. Jesse was half expecting for the job not to come through. However, Bumper had called him the very next day to confirm the booking, calling him a fucking lucky bastard. The dates were agreed, he took time off work, sorted Sammy and his mom's care for the week he would be away and got ready for the job. The job specs came including a very generous allowance for luggage, clothes and anything else he needed. A luxurious black BMW had also appearwd at the Treble House to take him to the airport. That was a vey nice surprise but not as nice as what was waiting for him at the tarmac.

A private plane? He was flying to London in a private plane?

Jesse just about got his cool together when the chauffeur held the door open and he stepped on the tarmac. There were two women, waiting for him. One was blonde, looking very well together bordering on the severe while the tall brunette had a somewhat flirtatious smirk on her face.

"Mr...Clark?" the blonde one spoke up. Jesse could see her green eyes flicking up and down, giving him the once-over and he couldn't help feeling he was being assessed. She seemed to decide that oh well, he would have to do because the corner of her lips curled up reluctantly. "I'm Aubrey Posen. And this is Stacie Conrad."

That flirty smirk on Stacie's face went up a notch as Jesse nodded her way.

"I trust your journey was ok?" Aubrey asked. She didn't wait for an answer. "If you hand over your passport -."

"Sure." Jesse took out his passport from his inner jacket, handing it over. "Just tell me where to go to clear customs."

The look from the blonde was withering.

"You're flying private, Mr. Clarke," she replied. "Stacie will get customs cleared for you."

"Oh. Ok."

Jesse made a mental note of that. He had to play the part of boyfriend to the star after all and he should act like he was used to this jet set lifestyle. There was a frosty silence from the blonde as Jesse handed his passport over to Stacie who surreptitiously winked at him. By the time, Jesse turned his attention back to blonde, she was already marching towards the waiting plane and waited at the bottom of the stairs. Aubrey was busy checking off notes on the iPad she had in her hands but she looked up when Jesse drew alongside

"Just before you go in, I have to tell you we have a small problem," she said, once again scrutinising him closely. "This is a very delicate situation we have here and we are a little nervous. _She_ is a little nervous."

"I can understand that." Jesse nodded, glancing up the stairs towards the doorway.

"This whole plan is still under review, Mr. Clark. I am not entirely convinced we can pull this off," Aubrey said plainly. "If, for any reason, any reason at all, that I think you are going to jeopardise her or hurt her or ruin her reputation, I am pulling you out. You'll be on the first plane home. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

"And if anything leaked out, if there was even a whisper of a scandal, we sue the hell out of the Treble House. I will have Bumper Allen's ass on a silver plate and and I will personally ruin you. Do you understand?"

"The NDA is pretty clear on that, Ms. Posen. I'm aware of the need for discretion," Jesse replied evenly. "Please let me do my job."

Aubrey stared him down again and Jesse returned the look, unfazed. Stifling a worried sigh down, she looked up at the plane and jerked her head towards the door.

"She's waiting for you."

* * *

The interior was just as luxurious as he imagined.

Jesse said thank you to the flight attendant who brought him through and turned his attention to the one other occupant in the cabin. She was sitting on one of the leather seats, in skinny black jeans and a large beige sweater which threatened to envelope her. She was hugging her legs against her chest, her converse-clad feet on the edge of her seat and sitting like that, she looked really tiny. Jesse couldn't quite make out her mood because she was staring out of the window, huge sunglasses on her face.

Should he say hi? Should he cough so she knew he was there?

Jesse was thinking about all that when the attendant came back and primly told him to take a seat. A few awkward moments later where he had to be told where to sit and buckle up or the plane will not be able to take off, Jesse kept his eyes straight forward. He didn't dare to say anything to her to her now, slightly embarrassed with all the fuss. She didn't even look his way. Just when they were finally airborne and he thought they will spend the entire plane ride in silence, Jesse heard what sounded like a relieved sigh and the sound of the seat buckle being undone.

"Hey."

He turned towards the soft hey to find her taking off her sunglasses and smiling a little nervously at him.

"Hi," Jesse replied softly, smiling back. "You ok there?"

She shrugged her tiny shoulders and took a swig of champagne in front of her. "Just a little nervous about flying."

"Understood," he said. "Anything I can help with?"

She shook her head and gestured towards her headphones.

"Once I listen to some music and knock out, I'll be fine," she said. "But I don't think I'll get any sleep on this flight. We have something to discuss."

"Ok."

The flight attendant came back to check whether they wanted anything and Jesse waited until they were alone to speak up.

"Anything on your mind?"

She was chugging the champagne down and now restlessly tapping her fingers against the empty flute. Something was rattling her and Jesse patiently waited for her to speak up.

"I don't know whether you've read the brief," she begun. "Aubrey said she gave the Treble House a pretty comprehensive one. We are going to London for Chloe's wedding."

"I got that."

"Well, that redhead decided to get married to Tom, who is amazing by the way, in deepest, darkest England. Everyone will be together for a week. There's going to be a number of mutual friends, amongst them, Luke. We'll come to him later " Beca said. "The thing is I've been friends with Chlo since we were twelve so there's very little that she wouldn't know about me. And I just realised maybe this -" she gestured at the space between the two of them. "- may not going to work. I mean I don't even know your surname! She asked and I froze. It's not Clark Kent, is it? So how are we going to convince everyone that we are a thing when I don't even know your name? Especially that bastard, Luke -"

"Whoaaaa." Jesse interrupted. She was getting mildly hysterical and her arms were about to flail everywhere. She could take someone's eye out. Jesse gently placed his hand on her arm. "Calm down a sec."

"You don't understand? I can't afford for Luke to clue up on this -"

"Lane, it's fine. It's going to be fine," Jesse said gently. "I've given this some thought."

That stopped her.

"You..you have?" she said, huge blue eyes staring at him.

"Yes," Jesse smiled, sitting back in his seat. "We can come up with a story together. Ask me anything."

"Anything? I can ask you anything?" At his nod, her mouth twisted a little sceptically. "What's your full name?"

"You can use Clark, if you want to. But I was thinking I should use my real name for this," he said. "Just because it's going to be a week and there's less chance for a slip up."

The look on her face was priceless. "Clark's not your real name?"

"Nope. I like to keep my Treble work and real life separate. It's easier," he replied. "I'm Jesse. Jesse Swanson."

She was still staring at him with that aghast expression on her face. She seemed to realise her mouth must be hanging open because she quickly shut it and then blinked owlishly at him.

"Ok." she breathed out. "Ok then." And then she held out her hand for a handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Jesse Swanson. My name's Beca. Beca Mitchell."

* * *

"Aubrey, can you sit back and relax?" Staice peered over the rim of her wine glass at the uptight blonde sitting at the edge of her seat. "It's going to be a long flight. You need to chill out a little."

Aubrey glanced over at Stacie who was already stretching out in her seat. She sometimes envied the way the brunette could take things at her stride and not obsessively worry about everything.

"I can't chill out," Aubrey replied, jerking her head towards the inner cabin. "Not when we have a potential disaster in our hands. I thought he looked shifty. Don't you think he looked a little shifty?"

"Oh Aubrey," Stacie sighed. "You just didn't like it that he was not fazed with you and all your threats of bodily harm. Don't worry. He'll be fine. We talked about this, remember? Beca and Jesse just need to get to know each other better."

Aubrey's head jerked back towards Stacie.

"Jesse? His real name is Jesse?" the blonde said. "I thought it's Clark."

"No ma'am. I checked out his passport just now and it is definitely Jesse. Jesse Swanson."

The new information did not make the blonde felt any better. Aubrey gazed back at the doorway. Beca had called her on her way to the airport freaking out about her earlier call to Chloe. It was a little late to cancel all the arrangements so between the three of them, they had decided it was best for Beca to talk to her new fake boyfriend alone.

"I don't know what they are doing back there," Aubrey groused, finally picking up the glass of wine and taking a gulp. "But they better get the shit together before Chloe Beale's wedding."

* * *

"So..I told Chloe we met at a party," Beca said.

"Sure. That sounds good."

"What do you do for a living?"

Jesse's grin got a fraction wider.

"Can't say the real one, so shall we go for therapist?" he suggested. "Or insurance agent?" He chuckled when he saw that scowl in her face. Beca had emphatically shook her head.

"Musician. Let's go with musician," she said. "I did tell Chloe you were playing the piano when we met at the party."

"Ok. They will probably ask whether they've heard any of my songs, I'll just say I do the bar circuit and leave it at that," Jesse replied. "Wait. Won't they think I'm trying to take advantage of you? You know, with all your industry connections and all that."

"Shit. You're right. The girls can be a bit of a pain about that," Beca scowled. "No. It'll be alright. They can gossip all they want. Which they will anyway"

"Ok, struggling musician it is!"

"Any siblings? Parents?"

Jesse had thought about it and as much as he wanted to keep this job out of his personal life, he knew what was at stake if he were to slip up.

"One younger brother. Mom," he said. "My dad passed away some years back."

"Oh."

"Got a degree at NYU but I didn't complete my masters. Circumstances and all that."

"Ok" Beca replied, committing the details to memory. "Umm...birthday?"

"29th August."

"Girlfriends?"

"Well, you, of course," he answered cheekily.

Beca didn't know exactly why that flush came to her cheeks.

"No, I meant past relationships," she spoke up quickly.

"Two long term. Couple of years. One whilst in college, one after," he said. "Then I got too busy with work and haven't find the right girl. Until I met you."

Beca rolled her eyes.

"Cut the cheesiness down a notch, will you?" she said, waving a hand at him. "You were doing fine until just now. Favourite food and drink? Wait. I know this one. Popcorn and juice pouches. Like for five year-olds Carpi-Sun juice pouches."

"Awwww you remembered!" Jesse said, his eyes looking remarkably like a puppy dog.

Yeah. He shouldn't do that, Beca thought. He looks so freaking cute doing that.

"I also remembered you have an unhealthy fascination with 80s films. The Breakfast Club being a firm favourite," Beca continued, ticking each point off with her fingers. "You play several instruments very well. So it's highly plausible you are a musician. And...ermm..Aqua di Parma must be your favourite cologne."

Jesse's forehead creased a little in surprise. "How did you figure out the last one?"

Beca cleared her throat, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Umm..you were wearing the same scent whenever I see you so it must be a favourite. I happened to find out what it was the other day. It smells nice."

She looked down and plucked at a loose thread in her sweater. Had it gone awkward? It felt like it had gone a little awkward.

"Anything you want to ask me?" she said hesitantly, eyes still on that annoying thread. "Since we are doing all this...get to know you thing."

"Let's see -" she heard Jesse saying. "You have two older brothers, one a lawyer, the other an academic. Parents are divorced. Since young, you've always wanted to produce music. Turned down a scholarship at Columbia so you could move to LA and pay your dues. It worked because you had chart topping hits before you were nineteen."

She must have looked stunned because he was chuckling at her.

"You're a cat person. Your cat is best friend with Taylor Swift's cats, Olivia and Meredith," Jesse continued. "Although saying that, you're not part of any of the Hollywood squads. Nor are you into the Hollywood lifestyle, which is why you moved out of LA. Your close friends are those you knew from way back. And you love Coke Zero and Kraft macaroni cheese."

"How...what?" Beca stuttered.

Jesse shrugged. "Google's my best friend."

Beca narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, you've certainly done your homework," she reluctantly conceded. "Just don't believe everything on the Internet. Tiddles is best friend with Kitty Purry."

"That's what Google says about you" Jesse smiled. "But I think there's more to you than that."

"Oh, you think you know me?" Beca challenged, crossing her arms across her chest.

"No. Not saying that," Jesse replied, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Google's pretty great about the general stuff; you know, things you or your PR team Want the world to know. There are things about you that are not so obvious. Like how much you love your friends."

"Everyone love their friends," Beca said, breaking eye contact and looking away.

"Mostly. Not as much as you though," Jesse replied, his eyes not leaving her face. He added gently. "The gossip magazines weren't very kind to you six months back."

He saw her stiffened up and Jesse wondered whether he had pushed too far. Beca glanced back at him, a flash of annoyance on her face.

"What are you getting at?" she said a little sharply.

Jesse didn't reply and Beca huffed out in irritation.

"Fine. You've done your homework so you should know. I broke off with my fiancé six months ago. He was lying, spineless weasel and a cheater. And as much as I never want to set my eyes on that snivelling bastard, he is also the best man at the wedding."

"Why are you doing this then?" Jesse asked. "Why are you going to the wedding? Isn't it easier not to?"

'Because Chloe's my best friend!" Beca replied. "This wedding isn't about me. Or Luke. Nor the shit between us. It's about Chloe. So I'm just going to suck it in, ok?"

"Ok."

"Ok." Beca said. She sat back into her seat and glanced around irritably. "Now what do I have to do to get something to eat around here?"

* * *

"How long have we've been together?"

Jesse was mid-chew when she popped that question in between bites of her dessert. She seemed to be less irritable after having something to eat and when the subject steered away from being so personal. He held up his hand asking for a moment while he swallowed. The chocolate tart was delicious plus he didn't want to choke.

"Two months?" he suggested. "The first time we met for real was about two months ago."

"No. That's not going to work,". Beca shook her head. "Too soon. Chloe's going to jump on me for rushing into things. It's pretty big that I'm already bringing you to the wedding."

"Ok, we've seen each other around for some time, like for six to eight months but we've just started dating two months. I was trying to build up the courage to ask you out."

"Really? Guys can take that long to ask a girl out?" Beca said in surprise. "Huh."

The flight attendant had just cleared away their tables when the pilot made an announcement. They were heading towards some turbulence and they were asked to put on their seat belts. Jesse was about to go back to his original seat and buckle down when he saw how pale Beca was and the way she was clutching at the arm rest. The plane was shaking now and her hand clutched harder.

"Hey, you ok?" Jesse spoke up.

Beca was putting on a brave face. "I'm fine."

"Do you want me to get Aubrey or Stacie?"

She shook her head and Jesse was about to leave it when the plane rattled again and a small gasp escaped from Beca's lips.

"I'm going to sit with you," Jesse decided. "But let me grab my laptop first, ok?"

He didn't wait for the mute nod from her and within seconds, he slid into the seat next to hers, buckled up and opened the laptop he had. He balanced it between them. It was not the most hi-spec laptop like her Mac. It looked a little battered and for goodness sake, still had a DVD player but that didn't seem to bother Jesse. He was humming happily under his breath.

"What's all this?" Beca asked, her curiosity making her forget about the turbulence.

"I thought we could watch a movie."

"Dude..." Beca replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

" _While you were sleeping_ starring Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman," Jesse said, ignoring her evil side eye.

"Bill Pullman from _Independence Day_ Bill Pullman?"

"Oh. So you do watch movies," Jesse grinned up at her. "You're going to enjoy it. It's about this girl who doesn't have a family. She fell in love with this guy and saved his life at the train tracks. Everyone thought they were engaged but his brother was suspicious and ..."

He droned on and on, even though the movie had started. Beca half listened to him, her eyes on the screen. Who even have DVD player on their laptops anymore? He was just so weird. But Jesse's voice giving a commentary was rather comforting and once she got into the movie, Beca forgot all about her nervousness. She propped her elbow on the arm rest between them, resting her chin on her hand and before long, while Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman were falling in love on the screen, Beca Mitchell's eyelids began to droop and she fell fast asleep.

* * *

"Aubrey Posen! Are you eavesdropping?"

On hearing Stacie's whisper yell behind her, Aubrey immediately straightened up from that awkward hunch she was in at the doorway. Stacie was right behind her, eyeballing her with disbelief.

"What are you doing?" Stacie said, still in that whisper yell. "We're to leave them alone."

"It's too quiet in there!" Aubrey whispered back. "What the hell are they doing?"

Stacie came nearer and put her ear to the door.

"Well, they are not having sex," she commented drily.

"Stacie!"

"Shh. Keep it down," Stacie said. "I think I heard something."

Aubrey was anxiously looking at Stacie's face as the brunette intently listened at the door. She was frowning, which was really unusual, and after a minute or two, Stacie place her hand on the door handle and slowly opened the door a crack. What she saw made her smile and Stacie gently closed the door.

"Well?" Aubrey said impatiently.

"They're sleeping. Don't wake them up," Stacie whispered back. At Aubrey's look of horror, Stacie quickly piped up. "No. Not like that. Fully clothed and in separate seats. Looks like they were watching a movie and fell asleep."

Aubrey opened the door marginally and took a peek.

"Don't they look cute?" Stacie cooed. "I think they will be great together."

"No, Stacie. Don't," Aubrey warned. "Don't you dare!?"

"Don't what?" Stacie said, pretending not to understand.

"I know that look," Aubrey answered, fixing her green eyes at the nonchalant brunette. "No, Stacie. He's a professional. We pay him to look pretty, to say the right things and to make that fucker Luke regret he ever left Beca. He is not boyfriend material."

"I thought he's really nice." Stacie shrugged. "And Beca needs someone nice in her life."

"No. Just no." Aubrey insisted. "We've planned everything down to a T. He's the arm candy. He makes Beca look good. In front of everyone, he's to be the perfect boyfriend . But other than that, it's a purely working relationship. Right down to separate bedrooms at the hotel."

"Umm...yeah. About that..."

* * *

 **AN** : Hey, sorry for the long wait. It's summer hols and work was getting mad. I've been writing away but the chapters are all incomplete :( Thank you if you are still reading this fic or NY of my stories. The fandom's kinda dying a little here so I do appreciate all of you who had taken the time to read.

Shout out to **EpcotGirl** , yes! I love the Wedding Date and yep, this story is very much inspired by that. Also to **BechloeorBloe** , thanks for reading and for the review. All are welcomed and you are not the only Bechloe supporter who follows my stories. Thank you very much :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven**

Beca swiped the keycard, willing the light to turn green at the first go. She really couldn't be bothered to schelp all the way to Reception again if the keycard didn't work. She was tired and jetlagged and right now, she really needed to pee. The lock tumbled open with a click and Beca sighed with relief. She pushed the door opened and dragged herself inside.

Mental note to self - do not arrange for a press call immediately after touchdown. That had been tiring. She could barely keep that cheerful smile on her face let alone string coherent answers to the questions the journalists were asking. It had made sense when Aubrey suggested it. She had been keen for Beca to do it first thing because it meant she could get it over with and enjoy the rest of the wedding week. So the arrangement was for Beca to be picked up and whisked away to the press call by her London rep while the others checked into the hotel.

Beca slipped out of her shoes, squeaking out with bliss. It felt really good to sink her aching feet into the plush carpet. She shrugged out of the heavy jacket, tossing it onto the nearest chair. Beca unzipped the tan trousers she was wearing, wriggled out of it and kicked it aside, not really looking where it landed.

The flight over had been interesting. She had freaked out, Beca was willing to admit that. She had initially freaked out about the whole fake boyfriend thing. But after talking it through with Clark over dinner, it somehow didn't feel as horrific as she thought. They had come up with a story, a very plausible background and there was no reason for anyone not to believe she just started dating a struggling yet talented musician named Clark.

Sorry.

Jesse. His name is Jesse.

She has to get used to that.

As her fingers slowly undid the buttons on her blouse, Beca was a little thoughtful.

He was such a weirdo. What with the laptop and the DVD player and the movie which she fell asleep halfway through. She had woken up somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic to find the cabin in semi darkness, her seat reclined and a blanket drawn over her. She instinctively knew it was probably his doing. There was something rather gentle and caring about him and without another thought, Beca had fell back to sleep.

The light silk blouse she had on slid easily off her shoulders and Beca let it land on the floor in a heap. She made her way to the bedroom. She hardly glance round the room; totally blasé towards the plush surroundings having been to many, many identical luxurious hotels before. She needed a bath. There was to be a drinks reception later and before she face 100 miles per hour Chloe Beale-Pilkington Smythe and her Spanish Inquisition, Beca Mitchell will need regroup. A hot bath and perhaps a quick nap were in order.

Beca was halfway across the room when she heard it.

The shower. It was going full pelt.

And there was muffled singing.

Someone was in her room. Someone was in her room, in her very shower, singing.

Beca slowly backed away from the bathroom door, looking around wildly. Was she in the wrong room? No. She must be in the right room. Stacie texted her the number, the keycard worked and look, even her luggage was neatly stacked in the corner. Maybe it was some pervert lying in wait to ambush her? A pervert who liked to keep clean and take a shower before attacking defenceless women in their hotel room? Immediately, Beca searched for her phone and dialled Stacie. It went into voicemail and trying to keep calm but failing miserably, Beca whispered urgently into her phone.

"Stace! Come quick! Someone's in my room!"

The singing stopped and Beca heard the shower being turned off. Fuck. She should get out of here. There must be a mistake or some weird, fishy thing happening and oh god, she was still undressed. Beca was scrambling round to find her top and trousers when she heard the door opening behind her.

"What the... Lane?"

At that moment, Beca was aware of three things.

One, she knew who was behind her.

Two, he should really use her real name like they've discussed.

And three, she was currently bent over, reaching for her blouse lying on the floor thus giving said person behind her, an unrestricted, no holds barred, first class view of her pale, skinny ass in her black lacy boy shorts. Beca swiftly grabbed her blouse and with as much dignity as she could muster, she whirled round clutching that silk scrap against her, ready to tear into that no good son of a bastard.

"What the hell are you -" she started yelling, only to choke on her words and went into a coughing fit. Jesse was standing just behind her, looking confused. He was also bare chested, hair wet and skin glistening from the shower, with only a fluffy cotton towel wrapped around him.

"Hey, you ok?" he asked. His initial look of surprise changed into concern as she doubled up coughing. He took a step closer, reaching out to touch her gently on her shoulder. Beca quickly batted that hand away.

"Dude!" Beca yelled, finally able to breathe. "Why are you naked?"

"I just took a shower. Of course I'm naked," Jesse said, sounding perplexed. "What are you doing half naked in my room?"

"What?" Beca answered, still trying to get her thoughts in order. She looked down. Ah fuck. Like he said, she was half naked.

"Oh wow. I guess Chloe will be very thorough in her interrogation, huh?" Jesse said. "Ok, we haven't discuss this bit of our relationship yet but there's no time like the present. So...if you need to see the goods.."

"Good god no!" Beca bellowed, shielding her eyes with both hands. "Please don't drop the towel!"

All she heard in response was a deep chuckle.

"Lane, relax." - she heard him saying. "I won't go full frontal. That will cost you extra."

"Please keep your towel on," Beca implored, eyes still screwed shut.

"Don't worry. It's on."

Beca didn't know whether she could believe him entirely. She gingerly cracked one eye open. Yep, the towel was in place. He was still topless though and now rubbing his hair dry. A knowing smirk nearly split his face into two and those cute dimples were still there. Obviously her discomfort was highly amusing to him.

Bastard.

And fuck, why was she still standing in front of him in just her bra and panties? Beca quickly tried to put on her blouse, missing the sleeves a couple of times in her hurry.

"Full nudity is extra huh?" Beca snarked, going into the defensive.

"Usually," Jesse replied, cheeky smile still in place. "But to look at all this -" he added, gesturing at his chest and abs. " - is free. Look all you want." At Beca's stunned silence, Jesse gave a fake sigh. "Alright, fine. You drive a hard bargain," he said in surrender. "Just because you're my favourite, I throw in a bare back view. Hell, cop a feel if you want, but anything else -"

"No thank you!"

"Ah," Jesse said in mock disappointment at her determined tone. "I thought you might want to -"

"Might want to what?" Beca replied a little shrilly, finally able to shrug her blouse on. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment already and damn it, what was wrong with these buttons? Why couldn't she do them up?

"Well, you are -" Jesse said, his hands vaguely waving at Beca's state of undress.

"And?"

"Usually when my clients...ahem want to go that little bit further -"

"What? They just tear their clothes off in front of you?"

His growing smirk was unbearable. "Pretty much."

Beca gave up trying to button up her blouse. She was frazzled and embarrassed. She did not know quite where to look nor could she think straight. Maybe if he wasn't standing there, all calm and collected, even though he was naked under that towel.

"I just wanted a shower," she scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know why you are in here. You're in the wrong room, buddy."

"Oh. I'm quite certain this is my room."

"No. It's mine. Look, there's my luggage," Beca said, pointing indignantly at the number of LV luggage stacked in the corner.

"Well, there's mine," Jesse countered. Beca's eyes followed where he was pointing at and true enough, there was his luggage at the opposite corner. Unlike the trail of clothes she had discarded on the floor, his clothes were neatly folded on the edge of the bed. Freak.

"I don't know where's the mix-up. Stacie told me this is where I am and gave me the key," he said.

Stacie.

Of course, it would be Stacie.

There was a sharp rap on the door and speaking of the devil, they both heard Stacie's voice calling out from outside. Beca stomped over and wrenched the door open. Stacie was lounging by the doorway and one eyebrow quirked up when she saw the little amount of clothes Beca was wearing.

"Hey Bec, you rang?" Stacie casually asked, peering into the room. Her eyes landed on Jesse and a grin slowly spread on her face. "Oh. Sorry. Looks like I've interrupted something. I'd better go."

"You do no such thing, Stacie Conrad," Beca bellowed, dragging the taller brunette inside. "There must be some mistake. Tell Jesse this is my room."

"Well, it is your room." Stacie said.

"Hah!" Beca crowed triumphantly.

"It's Jesse's room too."

"What the fuck, Stacie?" "Told you."

"What's going on here?" Aubrey appeared at the doorway, iPad in hand. "I could hear you down the corri - oh my god!" She immediately shielded her eyes with her IPad and turned to the tall brunette. "Stacie! I thought you've fixed this."

"I tried," Stacie replied. She did not sound like she tried very hard at all. "But the hotel's full. No rooms."

"What do you mean no rooms?" Beca wailed. "Come on, this is London. There are bound to be rooms."

"Whole place booked out. What else can I do?" Stacie replied. "Besides, won't it look weird your boyfriend is staying in another hotel? Seriously, Bec. I'm just thinking how authentic this whole thing will look, ok?"

"She has a point, Beca," Aubrey spoke up from behind her iPad. "I don't like it but the girl has a point."

"You don't mind sharing a bed, do you, Mr. Swanson?" Stacie smiled flirtatiously at the half naked man. "Beca doesn't snore but she is a restless sleeper. Kicks a lot. So, if that's a problem, you could always come to my -"

"Right. That's it!" Beca interrupted, eyeballing Stacie dangerously. Between Aubrey's cowering behind iPad like she had never seen a naked man before and Stacie's obvious hunter at work, she had had enough. She spun on her heels and marched towards the source of all this madness.

"You!" she hissed, shoving him backwards into the bedroom. "Get dressed." She had intended to push him hard but her hand met a solid wall of muscle and her puny attempt didn't even budge him an inch. He chuckled good-naturedly staring down at her red face.

"Yes ma'am," Jesse murmured, stepping backwards as instructed, grinning all the way

Beca heard audible chorus of disappointment rising up from Stacie and she spun around glaring at her friends. "The rest of you get out of my room."

"Oh. Ok," Stacie winked at her knowingly. "I don't blame you. Obviously you wanna get back to -"

"Oh my god, just get out!"

* * *

Several hours later

"Are you always this angry?"

They were waiting for the elevator when Jesse asked her that question. The wedding itinerary said drinks at half seven, followed by a buffet dinner so here they were, on their way to the reception. Beca gave him a side eye, her hand fiddling with the diamond earrings she had on.

"No," she snarked back. "Only when I'm hungry and tired."

"Ok, that"s good to know," he chortled, taking his eyes off her and pressing the call button for the elevator again. "You look beautiful tonight. That dress really brings out the colour of your eyes."

Beca glanced irritably at him, wondering for the umpteenth time how the hell was he always so cheerful and in a good mood all the time. Here she was, a bundle of nerves in a blue cocktail dress and heels, worrying how this evening, let alone the whole week, was going to pan out while he was standing there in that smart dark blue suit and tie, totally at ease with himself. He was just so weird.

After getting rid of Aubrey and Stacie, Beca had spent an awkward two hours studiously ignoring the other person in the suite. To his credit, he didn't seem to force his company on her or tried to make small talk. He was mainly welded to the sofa in the living room, quietly working on his laptop while Beca stayed in the bedroom. She had tried to unpack, gave up after a while and then spent an inordinately long time in the bath tub. She would have fallen asleep in the tub if he hadn't softly knock, reminding her of the time.

The elevator opened and he politely let her walk in first. The hotel was a Grade II listed building and like many its age, the elevators were tiny. During the slow descent down, more people got inside until Beca found herself pressing closer to him. She tried to stay ramrod straight but there was no place and before she knew it, she felt a hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"Relax," Jesse whispered. "I'm not going to bite. Unless you want me to."

The killer glare he got from her made him laugh. He let go only after they reached the ground floor and everyone got out. Beca detached herself hurriedly, eyes already scanning the lobby for the way to the reception.

"We should really work on that, you know." she heard him saying.

"Work on what?" Beca said absentmindedly, already marching across the lobby and not looking at him.

"This whole...vibe..between us," Jesse said, falling in step next to her. "For starters, it would help if you don't look like you can't stand being near me."

Beca stopped in her tracks.

"I don't understand," she frowned. "Is that how it looks like?"

"Yep. Sometimes it looks like you hate being with me." Jesse answered.

"I don't hate being with you," she frowned at the man standing beside her.

"Of course not. I am exceptionally charming, loveable and great to be with," he joked, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "But We're supposed to be dating. And when I do this.." Jesse placed a warm hand on her back and Beca nearly jumped out of her skin. "See?"

Shit. This would be a problem. They just started dating. Theoretically, they should barely be able to keep their hands off each other. They should be having sex like rabbits, only surfacing out of their hotel room for more condoms and wine. Flinching when your boyfriend of two months touch you was not how it should look.

Beca looked round quickly and seeing a small door below the grand staircase, she swiftly grabbed Jesse's arm and dragged him there. Thankfully, the door wasn't locked and it opened up to a small cupboard-like space, holding cleaning supplies. It was just barely big enough for them to stand without falling all over each other. It would have to do. At least no one would be eavesdropping into their conversation.

"Right. Let's get this straight," Beca whispered urgently. "It's not you, it's me. I'm not the touchy feely type ok? So don't think I hate you or anything. I'm just not comfortable with strangers touching me."

"Understood. But we're not supposed to be strangers -"

"I know! We're supposed to be dating. I know how that's supposed to look like, "Beca whisper yelled back. "Look, what we do in private is nobody's business but the girls can be very nosy, especially Fat Amy, so what we gonna say is-"

"Fat Amy?" Jesse asked, face creasing with confusion.

"Yes, Fat Amy. Keep up, Clark -" Beca barrelled on. "- the story is we're taking things slow. We haven't had sex yet and that's alright."

"Wow. Ok, no sex. ," Jesse replied. "Have we made out before?"

"Of course we have! Plenty of times," Beca answered. "We're not weird."

"So you're good if I do this?"

Jesse leaned into her, placing one warm hand behind her bare shoulder. She stiffened up a little under his touch but Beca breathed in deeply and exhaled. She had to get ver this hump if they want to be convincing.

"I'm good," she said, her voice sounding a little high pitched.

"Ok," Jesse replied. "Let me up it a notch." His hand slid up the back of her neck and he squeezed it lightly. Beca was still trying to concentrate on her breathing.

"You're all knotted up," Jesse mused thoughtfully. His other hand came up and Jesse started kneading the base of her neck with both his hands slowly. "You are holding a lot of tension here."

Damn, that actual felt rather good. She forgot how nice it was getting a neck rub. His fingers were strong yet gentle and she actually feel her shoulders relaxing and the tension ebbing away. Beca's eyes fluttered shut.

"Lane, are you ok?"

Beca's eyes snapped open and she found Jesse was looking a little worried.

"Yes, why?"

"You had this strange look - " he started and quickly stopped. "You know, it's nothing. We're doing great here, so I'm going to slide my hands down and bring you close to me, ok? You'll be fine with that?"

"Mmm hmm."

His thumb was stroking the back of her ear gently, the nail lightly raking into her skin. Beca could barely quell down a shiver. He was staring intently at her as he slid his hands down her neck to her shoulders, pulling her into him. There was hardly any space between them.

"We should at least practise a kiss," Jesse said.

"Do we?"

Damn, why was her voice sounding so wobbly and high pitched.

"Yes, we should," Jesse said. "Dont worry. I'm just going to lean in and brush my lips across yours. No biggie. Just a quick brush. Think you can handle that?"

Beca nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The faster they get over this, the better. It was just so stifling hot in this cupboard. There was no air. The heat she was feeling on her cheeks? Yeah, totally because there was no window or ventilation or climate control in this room. Not because she was standing next to this very attractive man who smells so good and has warm hands. Beca was looking down when Jesse lifted her chin up so she was looking straight at him. His head was moving fractionally nearer. Ok, just a kiss. Just a kiss. No biggie. Just a -

"Owww!"

That crack of her palm across his cheek was deafening.

"Oh fuck! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

Beca was apologising profusely, mortified at what she had done. He was only leaning in and she had slapped him hard across the cheek. It must have hurt judging by the loud yelp and the way he was holding his hand to his cheek.

"Did I hurt you? Fuck. I'm so sorry," Beca apologised again.

Jesse was moving his jaw apprehensively, slowly rubbing at the red handprint she left behind. "That's quite a blow. I think you nearly dislocated my jaw," he said. "And..oww... There's a tiny cut. Stings a little."

"Shit. That's my ring," Beca replied, realising what might have happened. "I'm sorry! Here, let me look."

She tugged his hand away and was on tiptoes, peering into his face. Jesse watched as her eyes roved over his cheeks, fingers gently probing the fresh cut. He was sure it was a minor cut, no worse that a shaving nick but he still flinched a little when she prodded too hard. Her eyes looked so huge and blue and sorry and worried that Jesse felt he should reassure her.

"Hey, it's just a scratch. I'll live," he said, smiling at her. "Good thing we tried that though. I mean, if that happened in front of everyone -"

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what come over me," she apologised yet again. "I'm so out of practice. It's been some time since anyone else except Luke ..."

"Has it?" Jesse spoke up, intrigued. That couldn't right. Attractive girl like her must have men round the block trying their luck.

"Yep," she answered, looking a trifle embarrassed now. "Been with him for five years. And when that ended, I haven't been dating. I don't have the time." She blew a breath out, looking even more adorably mortified.

"Let me get this straight," Jesse said. "You haven't been with anyone else except Luke for the past five years?" At her nod, he continued. "Ok. That explained that jaw breaking slap. And the last six months -"

"A little longer than six months," Beca admitted, flushing red. She had a rueful look on her face. "I should have seen the signs, huh? He wasn't interested last couple of months. I thought it was because we were busy and I wasn't making an effort. I should have known he was getting it elsewhere -"

"Lane," Jesse immediately said, stopping her mid-flow. "It was not your fault, ok? Don't you ever, ever blame yourself for someone acting like a douchebag and cheating on you. That is all on him." He gently brushed her hair back and said, "I know we've just met but I think you're an amazing, talented woman and any man is lucky to have you. Don't you forget that."

She still looked a little sad but at least a tremulous smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. Most of the time, Jesse knew exactly what to say. That was part and parcel of his job, his bag of tricks, his little ways to make his clients felt better. But now he wasn't just saying it. She was really amazing and Jesse found himself thinking how can something looked so delicate yet tremendously strong at the same time? And if only he was so lucky...

"Ok...umm. So." Jesse swiftly snapped back into business mode. "Good job on the..ahh..vibe thing we talked about. For health and safety reason, I think we can forgo the kissing. It's only a week and it's not as if your friends will ask us to...ermmm...make out in public-"

"This is stupid."

"What now?" Jesse replied, confused at being derailed off his speech.

"I said this is stupid," Beca said. "I am being stupid. It's not like I'm a virgin or never been kissed before. Let's give it another go."

"Wha -"

Jesse's words were cut off when she launched herself onto him, pressing her lips against his. His arms had caught her and pressed her close to him. She was light as a feather yet soft, so soft against him. Jesse was vaguely aware she had thrown her arms around his neck, hands in his hair, pulling him in even closer. He tentatively opened his mouth and felt hers parting and without thinking anymore, Jesse deepened the kiss. She broke the kiss moments later, only to sigh softly and seek his lips again. He was glad the space was so small and the wall was at his back. His knees would've buckled on hearing that little sweet sigh.

He wasn't sure who ended the kiss first. Both of them were now standing in that small broom cupboard, still holding on to each other, panting. She was the first to step back, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Ok," Jesse spoke up to break the tension. "That was.. That was good practice."

"Yes. Yep," Beca agreed, clearing her throat. "So...no problem there."

"No. Nope," Jesse affirmed. "Look, my hands on your waist and you didn't try to castrate me." They both stared at how his hands were circling her tiny waist . "Ermm...that's good. That's really good."

"We're ready for the party," Beca said.

"What? Oh. Yes. Yes, we are." Jesse straightened up, letting her go. He reached for the door and pushed it open, gesturing for Beca to go first. "After you."

"Thank you."

They both stepped outside and once they escaped the dimness of the cupboard, they began to notice a few things.

"Your hair," Jesse murmured.

"Thanks," Beca answered back while hastily running her hand through her hair. "Your tie. It's-" She gestured at her neck area and Jesse quickly adjusted his tie.

"Your dress. At the back," he said, hand trying to tug her dress into place surreptitiously.

"You got lipstick all over your mouth," Beca replied, reaching a hand up towards the MAC colour she had inadvertently transferred all onto his face.

"Your friend, Chloe -" Jesse answered back, his words slightly garbled by the enthusiastic way she was rubbing at his mouth. "Does she have red, curly hair? About five foot five? Very excitable?"

"Yeah, why?" Beca asked.

Jesse was staring right over her head.

"Thought so," he whispered. "Look out. Here she comes."

* * *

Chloe Beale-Pilkington-Smythe had been Beca's friend since they were twelve. It all started when some older kids were picking on the tiny brunette. The redhead had loudly, almost scaringly shrieked out at the bullies, to leave Beca alone, pick someone their own size or better still piss off or she'll call her police dad.

Chloe didn't have to do that. Beca could very well take care of herself and Chloe's dad actually worked at a pet centre. But the redhead did and she ran over to check whether the tiny brunette was hurt. She was perfectly fine but it was the first time Beca knew how great it was to have a friend in her corner and they had been fast friends ever since. They did grow up together, almost inseparable and they knew each other quirks very well. As much as Beca loved the redhead, there were a few quirks she would never get used to.

"Beca? Becaaaaaaaa!"

That banshee shriek of hers.

"Beca, oh my god! You're here!"

And the ginger's total disregard for personal space.

Beca turned slowly and steeled herself for the inevitable. A whirlwind of arms and red hair seemed to attack her and Beca stood stock still as that mass of arms and hair finally settled down to become her best friend hugging her tight. She felt a wet smack of lips landing on her cheek before Chloe squeezed her even tighter.

"Chlo -" Beca wheezed. "Need. To. Breathe."

Beca took a few deep breaths as she felt Chloe released her hold but the redhead was not done yet. She twirled the tiny girl round and grabbed her face in her hands in a vice-like grip.

"Beca, I'm so glad you're here," she said. "I knew you were here ages ago but Stacie warned me you were probably jetlagged and need a nap. And we know how grumpy you get when you are tired. Plus I had to make sure Cousin Janice did get the stuff for the reception right. You know she nearly ordered like a roast pig tonight and we can't have that. The flowers for the ceremony might be late and I don't know whether I should cancel and get a new florist. Tom was saying I should relax and not be so uptight, like Aubrey and let someone else...hey, who are you? I'm Chloe Beale, soon Beale-Pilkington-Smith and I'm Beca's best friend."

Beca was barely processing what Chloe was saying and she was still at the roast pig when Chloe had turned her short attention span to the man standing beside her.

"Ah, Chlo. This is Cl-Jesse," Beca stammered.

"Cle-ssee?" Chloe frowned. "That is an unusual name. Is it Norwegian?"

"Ah umm. No-" Beca flailed again and Jesse came to the rescue.

"No. It's Jesse. Jesse Swanson," he said, smiling charmingly and offering his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Chloe. Beca talked a lot about you."

"Pleased to meet you, Jesse." Chloe said, primly shaking the offered hand. "I hope it's all good things you've heard but who are you again?"

"Boyfriend." Beca stuttered out. "The guy. You know. We talked about. Him."

Chloe was now frowning at Beca.

"I thought you're going out with someone named Clark."

"Ummmm..."

"Sorry. I can explain," Jesse piped up when Beca stuttered again. "Beca has this aversion to cute pet names so I can't call her 'baby' or 'honey' or 'munchkin moon pie' but sometimes she lets me call her Lane and she calls me Clark. It's just this thing we have between us."

Chloe's blue eyes were swinging wildly between the two, the frown deepening on her face. Beca's heart sank. Shit. This was not going to work. Chloe would call it. She saw through this whole flimsy trick. They were so busted. And it had only been less than an hour -

"Oh my god!" Chloe squealed. "That is sooooo cute!"

Wait. What?

"She let you call her Lane? And she called you Clark? Like in Clark Kent?" Chloe asked, eyes widening in excitement. "Did you know she used to be obsessed about Superman?"

"She was?" Jesse replied, grinning away.

"Yep. Like proper obsessed with posters and fan art everything and Mrs. Clark Kent scribbled everywhere. But it was ok because Beca's weird like that and she was like thirteen so let's not hold it against her. She swore she will only date and eventually marry a dark-haired man with superpowers so it was surprising to us when she got engaged to Luke, who is blonde by the way - Oh."

Chloe suddenly realised she had prattled on too much and threw her hand over her motor mouth. Jesse saw that stony look on Beca's face and Chloe's stricken one.

"Teenage Beca sounds amazing," Jesse easily said, placing a reassuring hand on Beca's back. "You have to tell me more, Chloe. She knows more about me than I do of her. I need all the blackmail material I can get. Did she like unicorns when she was younger? How about showing me some junior prom photos? Maybe she went through an emo phase?"

Chloe had began to squeak in excitement.

"Chloe. Don't you dare!" Beca nearly hollered out, petrified now.

"Oh, Beca-boo! Your secrets are safe with me," Chloe assured her but she turned and gave Jesse an exaggerated wink. "Sorry. I was kidding. I actually knew who you were. Stacie gave me the lowdown."

Beca huffed out in exasperation. "Do you girls ever stop gossiping?"

"Nope!" Chloe trilled. "Besides I saw you both coming out of that cupboard over there. Can't quite wait till later, could you?"

Beca's face went beetroot red while she felt Jesse shaking with silent laughter next to her. This was going to be hell of a long week.

* * *

They pulled it off.

By some stroke of luck, they pulled it off.

Beca stared at Chloe and Jesse who were walking in front of her. Chloe had her arm through Jesse's and chattering non-stop as they entered the grand room where the reception was being held. She should be a little annoyed her best friend was more into her fake boyfriend than her but Beca was not even fussed.

She knew exactly what Chloe was doing.

Chloe was drilling Jesse at the moment, trying to suss what kind of guy he was and whether he was good enough for Beca. If he stuck to the script, it should be alright. They just need this whole charade to hold up for the week and when it was all over and done with and a few months later, if Chloe asked, Beca would just say it didn't work out. That was the plan.

"Looks like you've passed the Chloe test."

Beca turned to her right to find Stacie had sidled up to her and was also staring at Chloe talking animatedly to Jesse.

"She bought it, huh?" the taller brunette said, taking a sip of champagne.

"So far," Beca commented. "I got a feeling I'll get a status report and approval rating later."

"I am a genius!" Stacie bragged, smirking into her drink.

"Eh. Nothing to do with you, bitch," Beca replied. "Chloe happened to catch us coming out of the broom cupboard. So that helped."

"Broom cupboard huh?" Stacie questioned. "What were you doing? That king-sized bed not big enough?"

Beca was colouring up fast.

"Nothing. We weren't doing anything," she insisted.

"Yeah. Sure you weren't," Stacie agreed, noting the redness on Beca's face. "I don't know why you're fighting it. That's a lot of man there and you know he'll be happy to -"

"Drop it, Stacie."

"I don't know what else I need to do to get you laid," Stacie sighed frustratedly. "I've got you a professional. I've already tricked you both to sharing a room -"

Beca was rubbing her temples now.

"I need a drink," she groused. "Where's the freaking bar?"

The freaking bar was right across the room and it took a good ten minutes for Beca to weave through the well-meaning crowd. There were Chloe's aunties and uncles and at one point, she ran into Chloe's parents who introduced her to Tom's parents, the very grand Lord and Lady Pilkington-Smythe, who in turn were so fascinated to finally met the famous Beca Mitchell, musician and absent maid-of-honour. She was very aware she had been slack with her maid-of-honour duties. Cousin Janice, one of the bridesmaid had been stepping up to the role and able a felt really bad.

So bad that by the time she reached the bar, Bec wanted to down a shot so badly.

She couldn't get drunk though. Not now.

Beca was trying to grab the barman's attention but even in her heels, she hardly cleared the height.

"Hey," Beca called out, waving her hand. "Can I get a -"

The barman was overlooking her, serving someone to her right instead.

"Hi-" Beca tried again.

The barman looked askance at her.

"Can I help you?" he asked. "If you want alcohol, I got to see some ID."

Beca rolled her eyes, reaching for her clutch. Seriously, she looked her age and definitely older than 21.

"She's good for it, mate." A voice spoke up behind her. "Get the lady a bourbon and coke."

Beca stifled that snort coming out of her. She wrenched her clutch opened, got her driving license out and thrust it at the barman. The barman took a closer look, shrugged and turned to make her drink.

"He's paying you a compliment, babe," the smooth voice behind her continued. "Drinking age here is 18. You should know that."

Beca waited until the drink was in front of her and she had a sip of that fiery liquid before she turned around. Not that she needed visual confirmation. That voice was as familiar to her as her favourite mix and songs.

Luke was standing beside her, casually leaning against the bar, hand tucked into his pocket. He was gazing down at her, eyes roaming down and up again to look at her straight into her eyes.

"It's good to see you, Becky."

* * *

 **AN** : _Thank you all for your reads and reviews. I'm so happy people are still reading my stories, you have no idea. So they pulled it off, huh? Will they manage to persuade Luke it's the real thing between them? Also how cute is Anna Kendrick? I saw her and Justin Timberlake at the London Eye. They were trying to switch on the Trolls light and the button didn't work. It was both awkward and hilarious._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The weeks and months following her break-up with Luke, Beca often wondered what she would do if she were to meet that fucking cheating dipshit she once called her fiancé.

When she discovered his naked cheating ass thrusting into her slut of a PA, Beca threw everything she could lay her hands on at them. Her Grammys, the laptop, an expensive mic, half a dozens of heavy ring binders. The row had been noisy and public with the whole recording studio skidding down to witness the horror. Aubrey and Stacie had to restrain Beca to stop her from doing harm to Luke and that smug-looking PA, still sitting half naked on Beca's desk.

Unfortunately, someone called the police. The pap was tipped and there were very regrettable photos of Beca being led away, pale and crying. The next few weeks the gossip rags were full with photos of Beca, loverat Luke and the girl Luke had cheated on Beca with. They also got hold of blurry photos of the fight. There was a particularly vivid montage of Beca threatening Luke with a heavy duty stapler as he cowered behind a yucca plant, stark naked and limp dicked. Aubrey promptly fired the unscrupulous staff who sold those photos. It was a horrendous few weeks.

Beca had not seen Luke since.

She didn't want to.

The diamond engagement ring was flung into the nearest river, Luke's clothes including his precious football jerseys had been lovingly shredded to strips and then burned. She had buried herself in work and more work to ease over her heartache. But sometimes when she was lying awake at night, Beca wondered what she would do if she were to lay her eyes on her ex-fiancé. And here he was, standing in front of her now smiling and casual, like the last six months did not happened.

"Luke." Beca intoned frostily, gazing up at him.

"Hey, Bec," Luke murmured, the corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. One that used to make her heart flutter whenever she saw it. "How you've been?"

Beca didn't deign his question with a response. She turned back to her drink, already dismissing him. She would be cool and distant. She will not give him the satisfaction of getting under her skin. He did not matter to her anymore. He can stand there or get lost; she didn't care which way.

"You look gorgeous, babe," he said and when she didn't answer, Luke sighed heavily. "Bec, I know you'll probably still mad at me but can we, at least, be civil? I understand we didn't part very well -"

Really?

Probably still mad at him?

They didn't part very well?

How about he just crushed her world and her self worth in one single blow? Betrayed and cheated on her and left her crying painful tears for months? That good enough? How about she thought she would spend the rest of her life with him only to discover he couldn't keep his dick in his pants and wave it to every girl who would touch that diseased cock for a cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut?

Beca breathed out slowly, getting a grip on her sudden impulse to brain that idiot with the heavy tumbler she was holding.

"I know I must have really hurt you. I can explained everything. It will make sense, I promised," Luke continued, totally unaware how close he was to spending a night at A&E. "I really didn't mean for things to go so out of hand -"

Beca snorted.

"Of course you didn't -" she mused almost absentmindedly hefting the tumbler in her hand.

"Hey baby, sorry I took so long."

Beca turned slightly and Jesse was there by her side. He swiftly wrapped an arm round her shoulder, pulling her closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Chloe insisted I should speak to her parents and then introduced me to Tom. You're right. He's awesome," Jesse spoke up, not missing a beat. He surreptitiously reached for the tumbler Beca was clenching in her hand. "I'm sorry I made you wait. We've all got talking about football and Bobby said -"

"Booby?" Beca said in surprise. "You spoke to Chloe's dad? And he let you call him Bobby?"

"Yep."

"But he's really scary -" Beca added. She released her hold on the heavy glass at Jesse's insistent tug.

"Oh, he's a puppy dog," Jesse exclaimed, placing the glass on the counter. He waved over the bartender easily and asked for two Bud Lites. "And Chloe's mum, Claire is a sweetheart. They would love it if we could join them at Cape Cod -"

"They invited you to their holiday home in Cape Cod?" Beca squeaked. "But you've only spoken to them for like, five minutes."

"They didn't invite me -" Jesse said, squeezing Beca's shoulder and smiling sappily down at her. "They invited us. Claire was saying you used to go all the time when you were younger. She really wants you to come."

Beca mulled this over as Jesse handed her a bottle of beer. Yeah, she did used to go to Cape Cod all the time. The place held really good childhood memories.

"Hi, we've haven't met," Jesse spoke up, seeming to notice Luke for the first time. He offered his hand out for a handshake. "I'm Jesse."

"Hello," Luke said, shaking Jesse's hand a little unsurely. "I'm Luke."

"Good to meet you, bro," Jesse said charmingly. "Aren't you the best man? You must be. Tom mentioned your name just now when we were talking about the stag do. Count me in."

"For the stag do? " Luke said, still bamboozled by the newcomer . "Oh. Ok. No problem."

Luke's eyes were darting between Beca and Jesse, trying to work out who was Jesse to her. He glanced at Beca, waiting for her to say something else but Beca was either deep in thought or ignoring him. Jesse seized that moment to link his hand with Beca's

"Chloe needs to talk to you," he said to Beca. He apologetically turned to Luke. "So sorry. If you could excuse us, I think there's some sort of roast pig emergency with Cousin Janice and Chloe needs her best friend. We'll catch you later?"

Without waiting for an answer, he swept Beca away, leaving Luke standing by the bar. It was not until Jesse had led her to the dining room and went nowhere near Chloe did Beca finally spoke up.

"I see what you did there," she muttered darkly to him.

"Hmm? What did I do?" Jesse replied, nonchalantly sipping his beer.

"You thought you need to rescue me," Beca said accusingly. "Newsflash, buddy. I can handle that dipshit. I don't need saving."

"Who said I was saving you? I was saving him," Jesse replied calmly. "You were going to smash his head in with that glass you were holding. Much as I and the rest of this wedding party will enjoy that drama, I don't want my girlfriend to spend the night in jail. Especially since it will be the first night I get to share a bed with her."

He winked.

Beca stared open-mouthed at the grin on Jesse's face. He was incorrigible.

"We are not sharing a bed!" she finally sputtered out. A few heads turned, looking curiously their way and Beca quickly lowered her tone. "Buddy, you get the sofa. I get the bed,"

"Ok, I"m good with the sofa," Jesse shrugged. "Stacie said you kick a lot in your sleep anyway."

"I do not -" Beca started, only to have Jesse chuckling at her and giving her a one armed hug.

"You are so easy to wind up, you know," he said.

Beca huffed in exasperation. "Was it that obvious?

"What? How easy it is to wind you up?"

"No. Just now with Luke," she clarified, frowning. "Was it that obvious how much I want to kill him?"

"Do you?" Jesse asked. "Really want to kill him, I mean. It has been...what? Six months? That's a long time. Are you still really that angry with him?"

"Well, why don't you try being cheated on?" Beca answered back bitterly. "Or find your fiancé fucking someone else on your desk? Try wasting five years of your life with scum like that. Then maybe you'll know how fucking stupid and angry I feel."

She necked the rest of her beer down after her quiet outburst. Maybe the taste can wash away some of that bile she was tasting at the back of her throat. God, she promised to herself she would not let Luke got under her skin. Now look what happened. She was al riled up, angry and bitter. And Beca was sure this smart arse next to her would probably have some cutting remark about the whole thing.

"You're right. I'm really sorry," Jesse spoke up.

Beca turned to find him looking rather contrite and apologetic.

"I wouldn't know how that feel," he confessed, his voice much subdued than before "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Bec insisted. But his gaze was unwavering and Beca found herself stuttering. "I..I don't know. Maybe."

She felt his warm hand slipped into hers.

"You know, I don't usually advocate revenge or violence - " Jesse said, squeezing her hand gently . "- but in this case, I think Luke had it coming. He needs to see what he's missing out. And I am going to show it to him."

"Show him what?" Beca grumbled. "Your six-pack and my ability to mess everything up?"

"So you did noticed my six-pack," Jesse smirked. He chuckled fondly at Beca's scowl. "You're the opposite of a mess, Lane. I don't know what Luke was thinking but believe me, by the end of this week, he will feel so stupid he ever let you go."

* * *

 **Later on, during dinner**

"Bec."

Hmm? What? Who was it?

"Beca, wake up."

Beca started up in surprise, eyes snapping open. The whole room seemed to swim around her and for a few moments, Beca felt a little disorientated. She was halfway eating her dessert just now. What happened ? Did she blacked out? Jesse's warm hand was on her shoulder, anchoring her back to the present.

"Relax. You just dozed off," Jesse's voice whispered into her ear. "No one noticed."

She felt Jesse gently stroking the length of her neck and Beca felt a little easier, her momentary panic slipping away.

"Lean back against me," he suggested. "That way you'll fall asleep on my shoulder and not facedown into the apple crumble."

That sounded like a great idea. Jesse shifted closer and Beca nearly sighed out in content as she leaned back into his warmth. They had all sat down for dinner after the drinks reception. It was supposed to be an informal affair but the parents of the bride and groom stood up and made their speeches. And then the aunt and uncles. Coupled with the alcohol, the dim lighting and jetlag, Beca could not keep her eyes open.

"What did I missed?" Beca asked.

"Uncle Edward made a speech about uniting two great countries through marriage. He nearly broke out singing Rule Britannia," Jesse whispered back. "Aunt Dot was talking about how the Pilkington-Smythe line will flourish with such good hips she saw on Chloe. They are expecting half a dozen babies -"

"That is inappropriate -" Beca laughed softly. "- and this wedding is getting more and more weird."

"I agree. But I'm having fun actually."

"Cos you're a weirdo," Beca murmured. It was so comfortable leaning against him. Her eyes were droopping again. "You called me Beca just now -"

"Hmm? Of course," Jesse replied. "That's your name."

"Yeah. But you always call me Lane," Beca insisted drowsily. "I like it when you called me Beca. It's nice."

Beca didn't expect an an answer back. She was just happy being cocooned against his warmth. He was only holding her close to his side with one arm but it felt nice.

"How many speeches left do you think?" Jesse asked.

"I don't know," Beca answered back lazily, eyes still closed. "Why?"

"I think you're tired and very jetlagged. You should go to bed."

"Dude, bed sounds great at the moment," she slurred. "But we can't sneak off without people noticing."

"Oh people are noticing alright," Jesse whispered into her ear, his other arm wrapping around her. "People are noticing how we are leaning and whispering and touching and hugging. Especially a certain blond someone with a name starts with L for loser."

"Really?'

"No, don't look.," Jesse shushed when Beca tried to sit up and look around. He landed a light kiss against her temple and added. "He's been staring at you the whole night. Looking quite sick, I might add. So how 'bout it? Shall we make him even more jealous?"

Beca turned her head. They were so close her nose was brushing against Jesse's cheek. She sank back against his shoulder and her hand crawled up round his neck. Jesse found himself kissing Beca Mitchell on her mouth, her fingers tangling in his curls. It was a hot kiss. Her mouth opened immediately under his, the tip of her tongue darting in. He instinctively wrapped her nearer, moulding his hands against her ribcage. His hands would have travelled further up if she didn't suddenly break the kiss.

"How 'bout that?" Beca whispered. "Do you think that worked?"

His head was still ringing and it took Jesse a few moments to get his composure back.

"Yeah," he answered, a little surprise how thick his voice sounded. "I think that will work."

"Good," Beca replied. She sat up and picked up her clutch from the table. "Come on, dude. Let's go back to our room. That sofa's waiting for you."

* * *

"They're sneaking off."

Aubrey noted the audible glee in Stacie's voice and glanced over to where Beca and Jesse were sitting. Jesse was now standing up, drawing Beca's chair back as she got up. Both of them were smiling, quietly taking their leave and Jesse's hand was on her back as they practically ran out of the room.

"Did you see how handsy they were? All that cuddling and kissing?" Stacie said, almost combusting in excitement. "And now they are leaving? Yes! Our girl is getting laid tonight!"

"Don't bet on it," Aubrey countered. "She's stubborn as fuck and he's putting on a good show. I don't think they are falling into bed having sex just yet."

"What? What? Who's having sex?"

Both women heard a chair being dragged close to where they are sitting and Fat Amy plopped herself down. The fat blonde reached up to her tall beehive, extracted a breadstick and begin to munch noisily on the treat.

"Are you guys taking bets whether Beca is going to have sex tonight?" Amy asked in between munches. "Put me down for a twenty."

"No, Amy, no." Aubrey answered, slightly aghast. "We don't bet on our friends like that!"

"You don't but I do," Stacie replied, reaching out to shake on the deal. "Twenty, did you say? Wait. Sorry. We'll be betting on the same outcome, Ames. I really, really want Beca to have sex tonight. That hunter is so out of action -"

"She's not getting any?" Fat Amy questioned in surprise. "Have you seen the hunky, creamy cheesecake she had draped all over her? She's not tapping that?"

Aubrey was throwing dagger looks at Stacie for almost giving the game away.

"Ahem...I heard they were taking it slow," Aubrey swiftly interjected. "You know, with the whole Luke thing, Beca is having some trust issues and Jesse is fine with that. It's only been two months."

"Two months? TWO months?" Amy said. "How could flatbutt resist him for two months? I dive into that cheesecake first chance I've got. Did you see how well his trousers fit?" Amy made vague circling motions with her hands. "I swear -" she continued. "- when Beca introduced him around, he was so freaking charming, TWO women came on the spot. Where in the world did Beca get a man like that?"

"Out of a catalogue," Stacie said with a straight face.

Aubrey swiftly kicked her under the table.

"Ladies, I am SO okay with flatbutt having a new man. She deserves someone good after that asshole, Luke," Amy said, flicking crumbs off her boobs. "Have you spoken to him yet? I've heard he didn't bring a plus one. Things with Slut PA lasted all of two weeks."

"Chloe won't invite that hussy!" Stacie said. "Cheap slut thought she could get famous on being the other woman. Tried to get some mileage out of all that gross publicity. Didn't work."

"Karma's a bitch," Amy agreed. She leaned a little closer, smirking. "But my sources told me something else too. Since the whole engagement imploded, Luke's at a loose end. Not very many of his business contacts are returning his calls."

"It's because they are mainly Beca's business contacts," Aubrey said. "Serves that jerk right."

"I think our dear Luke is beginning to find out how good he had it with Beca. Hot girlfriend, good career, great lifestyle," Amy said. "Now he's without a girlfriend and not exactly raking it in. We all know Luke doesn't do 'poor' very well so -"

Both Aubrey and Stacie were looking at each other, a little puzzled at what Fat Amy was insinuating. It was Stacie who spoke up first.

"Oh my god, Amy . Do you think Luke is trying to get back with Beca?"

* * *

The sofa was not that bad.

He had slept in worse places before and a nice plush sofa in a luxurious suite with soft pillows and a thick duvet was definitely not that bad. They and returned to the room and Beca immediately headed for the bedroom, clearly tired and wanting to sleep. He had let her have the bathroom and waited until she was done before cleaning up for the night. By the time he came out, Beca was already in bed and when he tiptoed out to the lounge, he found the pillows and duvet waiting for him. Jesse was just dozing off to sleep when he heard his name being called.

"Jess."

Thinking he was probably hearing things, he mumbled and turned over, pulling the duvet higher up. He felt a hand shaking him and the voice was a little more insistent this time.

"Jesse, wake up""

Jesse shot up straight. He also nearly brained Beca who was hovering over him.

"Ouch. Dude!" Beca complained rubbing her head when Jesse had inadvertently hit her.

"Beca?" Jesse mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "You're up? What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," Beca said.

"You can't sleep?" Jesse echoed. He yawned a little before focusing his eyes on Beca. She was standing over him, with a robe wrapped round her and Jesse made a little space on the sofa so she could sit down. She stayed on her feet.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I don't know," Beca huffed.

"Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?" Jesse offered, fully awake now. "Maybe that might help?"

"No-" she replied, twisting the tie on her robe. It took her a few more nervous twists before she continued. "I was just thinking it's a huge bed back there. I mean, like really huge. So - you don't have to sleep on this old sofa -"

"I'm actually ok here -" Jesse started but he stopped when he noticed how worried and she looked and Jesse changed his mind. "You know what? That would be really nice. Thank you."

Beca nodded briefly before walking back to the bedroom. Jesse took a moment to wonder what was happening before picking up the pillows and with the duvet trailing behind him, he followed her into the bedroom.

That bed was big. That was certainly true.

Jesse stood at the doorway watching Beca. She was on her knees on the bed, building a massive wall of pillows dividing the bed into two. Jesse had to stifle a smile. Seriously, how many pillows did housekeeping provide in this place? And can Beca looked any cuter concentrating hard on that pillow fort? She hopped off the bed and stood at the side once she finished.

"Wow, pretty impressive fort building skills there," he commented, going to his side and tossing his pillow down. "Who are you trying to keep out?"

"Well. Just in case I kick you or something," Beca muttered, lowering her gaze, a little embarrassed. She slipped underneath the duvet on her side, fluffed up her pillow and tried to settle in. Jesse did the same and before he reached out to switch off the light on the nightstand, he looked over his shoulder.

"Night, Beca."

Her answer was a soft harrumph.

Jesse settled back into the bed. Oh yeah. Much nicer than the sofa. He should fall asleep in no time. Like any moment now. Any moment. In fact, he should have fallen asleep like five minutes ago. Except Beca was lying, restless, next to him.

"I can hear you thinking," Jesse spoke up in the dark. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Beca fell silent for a minute and then he heard a long sigh. She turned on her side to face him, impatiently brushing her hair back.

"How did you do that?" Beca asked.

"Do what?"

"Know what I'm thinking."

"I don't," Jesse replied, turning on his side to face her. He could just make out the outline of her face in semi darkness. "But I know something's on your mind. You were ready to fall asleep straight into the dessert just now and now you're wide awake. It has to be something pretty big."

Beca was chewing her bottom lip.

"It's Luke," she confessed. "I didn't know seeing him again will affect me so much."

Jesse thought about what she said.

"You were with him for five years," he replied sagely. "There's a lot of history between you. At one point, you even thought you're going to spend the rest of your life with him. Of course, seeing him will affect you."

"Yeah. We've been through a lot," Beca said softly. "I spent some of my early years here in London, just doing gigs, getting my name out there, you know. Luke helped me a great deal and I always felt that I owed him for that. We got together and tried doing the long distance thing but it was hard. So he moved. He came over to the U.S. to be with me."

"Are you feeling a little guilty?" Jesse said.

"I don't know. Maybe. It's just -" Beca broke off, sounding frustrated. "I really don't know. Today was the first time I've seen him in months. I haven't seen him since that night I found him -"

Beca fell silent and Jesse didn't say anything. He knew Beca probably needed a moment.

"So. I haven't seen him since," Beca continued. "I thought I have work it all out of my system. All the crying and burning of clothes etcera. Looks like I haven't."

"You burn his clothes?" Jesse asked, fascinated. "Remind me not to piss you off."

Beca's lips curved into a half smile. She really didn't know how he does it. Somehow Jesse always managed to cheer her up. Even if it was only a little.

"To be honest, I didn't quite recognise him," Jesse continued. "He looked really different with clothes on. All the photos I saw of him; he was naked hiding behind a plant."

"You must mean those pics in the magazines," she grimaced. "Not my finest moment."

"I thought you looked pretty scary. Were you really wielding a stapler?" Jesse asked, fascinated.

"A heavy duty one."

"I hope you threatened to hit him with it?"

"Umm..no," Beca replied. "I think my exact words were _I'm going to staple your cock to your pubes you dirty, cheating prick_. He was very frightened. Aubrey and Stacie had to stop me."

Jesse snorted in his pillow and on hearing that snort, Beca started giggling. They both started giggling in the dark

"I hope you saw a therapist after that," Jesse remarked once the giggles subsided.

"No, I just bury myself in work and more work," Beca replied. "I didn't want to think too much about it because it hurts. At least my music won't hurt me."

"It's good that you are taking your mind off something like that with work," Jesse said. "But it looks likeyou are not coming to terms about your relationship with Luke either."

Beca looked a little thoughtful.

"I'm beginning to see what Aubrey and Stacie were driving at." she said. I'm not getting any closure."

"Maybe you should have a talk with Luke," Jesse suggested. "Calm and civil. No trying to use bar equipment or office supplies as a weapon. Just an adult conversation about your past and then move on from that."

"I didn't give him a chance to explain," Beca said. "He said he could explain it all and it will make sense."

"He can explain why he cheated on you?" Jesse answered. "Yeah. Ok. That would be interesting."

"You don't get it. What about if it was me?" Beca fretted. "Maybe I drove him away? I knew it was hard for him to tow along. He could have had his own thing here in the UK yet he ditched all that to be with me. And I was so busy all the time -"

"Bec-" Jesse spoke up. "Stop blaming yourself. Even if any of that is true and I, for one, don't think so, Luke should have manned up and talked to you about it. Cheating is never ok."

Beca rolled to her back, staring at the ceiling.

"No. Of course it isn't," she sighed, throwing up her arm to rest on her forehead. "But do you think it's possible to move on? From the cheating, I mean. Is it possible to salvage the relationship?"

Jesse didn't answer and a moment later, Beca felt him shifting and he was on his elbow, his face looming over hers. She couldn't quite make out the expression on his face.

"Are you saying -" Jesse whispered. "- you may still have some feelings for Luke?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Beca scowled at her appearance in the mirror. She was already running late and there was no time to change out of the pair of jeans she had hurriedly jammed herself into or this weird tshirt she grabbed out of her unpacked luggage in blind panic. Ten minutes ago, she had woken up in a darkened room, cosy and warm under a thick duvet and a wall of comfy pillows. She was ready to slip back to slumberland when her phone buzzed and Beca realised the time. It was already 10 a.m. and according to the text from Aubrey, she was supposed to be downstairs meeting the girls at least an hour ago. They were supposed to be at the boutique for the dress fitting.

Her phone buzzed again to remind her of the time.

Shit, this whole outfit would have to do. She didn't have time to change into something else. Beca hastily dragging a hairbrush through her tangled hair and promptly threw down the hairbrush in disgust. Her hair would not be tamed in two minutes. She would to find a baseball cap somewhere and judging by the tired eyes staring back at her in the mirror, she would also need her sunglasses. Where were they? Oh. Yeah. In her bag. On the dining table. if she remembered correctly-

"Good morning!"

Beca froze at the doorway. She was walking out from her bedroom to look for her bag when that voice greeted her. It was not so much the cheery greeting that stopped her in her stride. Beca blinked in surprise at the sight of Jesse Swanson. In her rush, she had totally forgot about her room mate for the week. And now, the said room mate was lounging in a chair at dining table, opened newspaper in his hands, smiling boyishly up at her. On seeing Beca at the doorway, Jesse rose up from his seat, folding the newspaper he was reading and placing it neatly on the table.

"Slept well?" he asked, coming round to where she was.

Ok, this was just monumentally unfair.

Both of them stayed up equally late last night. Beca had wanted to talk and Jesse had listened. She was sure she had dropped off first. He would have less sleep than she did. How could he looked so impossibly fresh and ready to start the day while she looked like death warmed over? He had a crisp, slimfit blue shirt on, opened at the neck and those jeans which in Beca's humble opinion were just too well fitting while Beca was dressed a little better than a slob. This was just so not fair.

Then Beca's nose also told her something else.

There was coffee. And perhaps -

"Breakfast?" Jesse asked, turning away slightly to show her what was on the dining table.

Yeah, he should really stop doing that. It was freaky how he seemed to be able to read her thought. "Coffee," Beca croaked, coming a little nearer. "I like it -"

"Black? Like your soul?" Jesse answered, reaching out for the coffee pot and pouring out a stream of hot coffee into pretty china cup. He offered it to her, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.

"Wrong -" Beca shook her head, taking the steaming cup and taking a careful sip. "My soul's not black. I don't have one."

That earned a laugh from Jesse. As cross and moody she was, Beca couldn't help thinking how lovely his laugh was. It was a genuine chuckle - not one of those sycophantic ones she get from people sometimes. It was really nice to hear.

"I wasn't sure what you like -" Jesse said, methodically lifting the metal cloches off the plates on the dining table. Immediately the smell of sausages, bacon and fried egg rose up. "- but we are in England so perhaps an English breakfast? Or maybe a fruit salad and yoghurt? There's cereal but they didn't have any Lucky Charms."

"No time," Beca mumbled in response, simultaneously drinking her coffee and scrolling through her phone. She walked over to the dining table to retrieve her bag, hanging off one of the chairs. " I'm supposed to meet the girls for breakfast . I'm so late already."

"Ah yes." Jesse nodded. "You have a dress fitting this morning."

On the first pass, it was probably not unusual for Jesse to know that. Aubrey and Stacie had probably briefed him thoroughly on what was happening every freaking minute of every freaking hour of the trip. Jesse had most likely done his homework. But on second pass, Beca suddenly stopped rummaging round her bag for her sunglasses.

"You knew!" Beca yelled accusingly.

"Knew what?" came Jesse's reply.

"You knew I had the dress fitting this morning," Beca replied. "I overslept. You knew and you didn't even wake me up!"

For someone who was caught, he didn't even look guilty. There was Beca, going all shrill and annoyed and Jesse merely shrugged it off.

"You were tired. Another hour in bed would do you good," he reasoned, turning back to the table to tidy up the breakfast things. "Besides, you look kinda peaceful sleeping."

"Ok. That was weird. And slightly creepy," Beca retorted, picking up a crumbly croissant off a woven basket and tearing it into two. "Do you always stare at women while they were asleep?"

"Only my favourites," Jesse quipped with a wink

Beca's mouth was too full with the buttery pastry she couldn't snark back. She made do with an eye roll instead. She chewed quickly, her mind racing to the conversation they had last night.

"Listen -" Beca spoke up after swallowing down the croissant. "About last night - Please don't tell anyone. I was just rambling -"

"My lips are sealed," Jesse remarked gravely. "Like I said last night you need to work this out by yourself."

"It's just -" Beca blew a breath out, struggling with her thoughts. "I'm not even sure what I feel. Aubrey is going to over-react big time. I don't even know how Stacie will react. And it's Chloe's wedding -"

"I know." Jesse interrupted softly. "It's not easy. Especially with all that's happening right now. But I'm going to promise you one thing, ok?"

"Promise me what?" Beca stared at him with those worried blue eyes.

"That I am going to be your ever-loving, very attentive boyfriend -"

"Fake boyfriend -" Beca deadpanned.

"Ok," Jesse chuckled at Beca's grumpy interruption. "Your ever-loving, very attentive fake boyfriend this whole entire week and I will support you in whatever you do."

Beca eyed the smiling Jesse.

"You gonna support me in whatever I do, huh?" she challenged.

"Yep."

"Even if it means helping me get back with my cheating ex-fiancé?"

Jesse chuckled and then made a show of doing a huge mock sigh.

"Even if it means helping you get back with your cheating ex-fiancé -" Jesse intoned, echoing her word for word. "- If that's what you really, really want."

Their eyes met and for a second, Beca felt like there was challenge in Jesse's brown eyes. Then her phone buzzed loudly with yet another impatient text from Aubrey, and beca was the first to look away.

* * *

"It's going to be alright, y'know."

Beca frowned on hearing Jesse's calm voice from the back of the elevator. She had rushed out of the suite as soon as she replied to Aubrey's text, with Jesse in tow. They were heading down to the breakfast room to meet up with the rest of the bridal group. Unusually, the elevator was empty so there was ample space between them. Jesse was, as always, at ease lounging at the back of the lift while Beca was standing ramrod straight by the door. Maybe that was a good thing. She wasn't sure it was a good idea to stand so close to Jesse. He smelled so great and she only had time to brush her teeth and wash her face just now.

"What do you mean it's going to be alright?" Beca hissed back as soon as they were out of the elevator and walking towards the breakfast room. "I hate being late. It's rude to keep my friends waiting."

Jesse just shrugged, easily keeping up with her power walk.

"I'm just saying they will understand," he smirked, lifting up his eyebrows. "Y'know, late night, hotel room, hot guy..."

"Yeah?" Beca deadpanned casting a side look at Jesse falling in step next to her. "If you see that hot guy, please send him my way."

Jesse laughed, shaking his head. "Are you always this hilarious? Or is it only in the mornings?"

Holding back that eye roll was really hard. Beca decided Jesse was far too cheerful for his own good and obviously had no regard for self-preservation. Beca Mitchell was one grumpy bitch in the mornings. Grumpy, snarky and dangerous. Especially with only two sips of coffee, no proper breakfast and running late. A lesser guy would have steered clear seeing her stomping down the warpath but not this guy. Jesse Swanson seemed to roll with the punches.

"Look out," Jesse whispered. "Here we are."

Beca felt his warm hand slipped into hers. It jolted her a little. That little frisson of electric that ran up her arm as his fingers neatly laced through hers. She almost stopped in her tracks but the. Beca she realised where they were. They were just right outside the breakfast room. Two more steps and they would be inside, in full view of her friends and wedding guests. Oh. Ok. Jesse was obviously just looking the part.

"Bec! Beca!"

That holler from Chloe and the way the redhead was waving her arm frantically was all Beca need to find her girls. They were seated in a round table - Amy, Stacie, Aubrey and Chloe with two of the other bridesmaids, one of them could be Cousin Janice - Beca was not entirely certain

"Hey," Beca called out as soon as she reached the table. There was a chorus of return greetings. Chloe threw her arms around her neck, giving her a noisy kiss on her cheek before she could even sit down.

"Sorry I'm so late," Beca continued. She found Jesse pulling out a seat for her and her chair was tucked in as soon as she sat down. "Late night and jet lag."

Beca frowned at the weird grins on Amy's and Stacie's faces. Aubrey was looking suspicious but Beca didn't have time to think too much about what the hell her friends were thinking. A waitress appeared at her elbow with two pots, asking whether she wanted tea or coffee and whether she would like some breakfast. The half croissant she stuffed in her mouth just now bare,y touch the sides and her stomach was already rumbling by now. Beca could vaguely hear Jesse talking to the group but she was too busy ordering some breakfast.

" - so, you ladies have fun -" she heard Jesse saying. "Munchkin, I see you later ."

Beca didn't know whether she choked on her hot tea because of the munchkin or because of the kiss Jesse dropped on the top of her head. She sat stiff with surprise, feeling Jesse's hand squeezed her shoulder before hearing him walked away.

"Jesse, wait!"

Beca rose from her chair and ran after him. He stopped and tuned around, a quizzical expression on his face. Beca at once forgot why she wanted to stop him.

"So..umm -" she stammered. "Will you be ok alone? I mean...it's your first time in London, right? You won't get lost? Do you need any cash?"

Once the words tumbled out of her mouth did Beca realised how condescending she sounded. She was sure Jeeze did a mental eye roll at her. She would. But instead, the dark-haired man smiled goodnaturedly down at her.

"Yeah, I'll be ok. Yes, it's my first time in London so I thought I go do a little exploring. No, I don't think I will get lost. And no, I don't need any cash," Jesse answered. "Your manager made sure I had some payment upfront and you are paying me very well for this privilege."

"Oh."

Beca was now at a loss on what to say.

"I have to say your concern is very touching," Jesse continued. He raised his eyes to look over Beca's shoulder and his smile widened briefly. "Will you be ok? Looks like the dress fitting will be rather intense."

Beca looked over her shoulder to find the whole of her table grinning at her.

"I can handle the girls," she said confidently.

Apparently it might not have been sound confident enough.

"Ok, just remember you can call me to rescue you anytime," Jesse reminded her. "Now, why don't you give me a kiss?"

A kiss? What? Here?

Oh. Yeah. The girls were probably watching.

Beca went on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around Jesse's neck. She meant it to be a quick peck on the lips but somehow he smelled so good, and his hands circling round her waist felt so warm and really, his mouth was like the softest thing ever that Beca found herself trying to catch her ragged breath a few seconds later. She swayed a little as she went back down on her heels it was a good thing Jesse was still holding her.

"Ok -" she heard Jesse speaking up through the haze round her head. "Umm... I should... I should go."

"Yeah. Ok." Beca cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear. "See you later."

She went back to the table, firmly willing herself not to turn round. Her ordered breakfast was already on the table. Beca attacked it with gusto and it was not until she was halfway chewing her eggs, did she realised the whole table was quiet. The girls were all looking at her, smiling stupidly.

"What?" Beca mumbled. "What did I do?"

* * *

Jesse stepped out of the hotel, smiling politely to the doorman who held the door opened for him. It was a lovely spring morning - still a little chilly but the sun was shining, the sky was that clear light blue and colours were slowly blooming on the trees outside. Jesse took in a moment to breath in the cool air, letting it slowly fill up his lungs. That felt good. That felt good and refreshing. Goodness knows he needed to clear his head. Somehow that last kiss at the breakfast room had left some sort of a fog around his brain and for a few minutes, he had just blindly walked out of the room towards the exit.

He felt a little better now. A little more in control.

Jesse was not 100% sure why the kiss affected him so much. Beca Mitchell was just another client. He had other clients before. He had done more than just kiss with other clients before. Why would a quick peck on the lips discombobulate him so much? Yes, she was attractive. And maddening. And stubborn. And all rough edges with a soft inside. She was not what he thought she would be and Jesse concluded that must be it. Beca Mitchell was an interesting enigma - one with many layers and that was why he was always in this weird position where he needed to second guess himself.

OK, he shouldn't think about this too much. He was in London and he had a free morning. He should really get some sightseeing done. According to the concierge just now, he could either hail a cab or walk to the nearest underground station. It seemed like a lovely day to stay underground. Jesse walked down the pavement away from the hotel and was about to hail a cab and ask the driver to take the scenic route when he heard his name being called out.

"Jesse!"

He turned round to find the groom, Thomas Pilsworth-Smythe, calling out to him. The lanky British guy was standing by the doorway, waving him over. He was a really nice guy, from what little time Jesse had spent with him last night. He seemed rather straight-laced and awkward at times - the direct opposite of his soon-to-be wife who was always the life of the party. Jesse frowned, wondering why Tom was calling him over. He then back-tracked his steps. Tom looked like he had ran a mile and was trying to catch his breath.

"Thank god I didn't miss you," Tom said, pulling a hanky out of his jacket and proceeded to mop his sweaty brow. "The ladies said you've just left and I was worried I might not catch you. I didn't have your number or I would've called. Oh. I could have asked Beca for your number -"

He looked flustered and Jesse grinned at him.

"Hey Tom. Did you need me?" he asked. "What can I do for you?"

"I've meant to ask last night but with all the speeches - " Tom spoke up. He then took a deep breath. "I know this is last minute and I am really sorry to spring this on you. One of my cousins is knee deep with lambing season up in Scotland. He's not going to be able to make it for the wedding. Could you take over his groomsmen duties?"

By the way Tom was sweating and stammering, Jesse was sure he was about to ask for his first-born. It was not a big deal to be one of the groomsmen.

"Sure, why not?" Jesse smiled.

He could see the way Tom's shoulders seemed to sag in relief. The taller guy couldn't say thank you enough and then withdrew his phone out of his pocket. Jesse watched as he punched a number in and waited for a response.

"Luke?" Tom spoke on the phone. "It's fine. We got a replacement for Dermott. Yes… Jesse said he'll do it. Yes. Jesse. Ok, I'll see you at there."

Tom ended his call and looked at Jesse.

"You do have a morning suit, don't you?"

* * *

 _ **AN** : More PDA to come. Thank you for reading. Love you guys - our numbers might be small but we are good :)_


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